The Fosters: Season Two
by uneecrivaine
Summary: Takes off right from the morning after the wedding. Brallie-centric, though I will be continuing the story lines of those presented in the finale. NEW CHAPTER/EPISODE EVERY MONDAY UNTIL THE ACTUAL PREMIERE IN JANUARY. I promise I will never miss my deadline, and I promise to bring the drama. RxR and mend your broken Brallie heart.
1. Episode 11

**A/N: So I was going to post this Monday, but a few people have already beaten me to the punch with the same idea, so I wanted to get this out there before it gets too crazy. From here on out, though, I will be updating every Monday, as if it were the show. This story is as much as it is for me as it is for you guys, so drop in a review or PM me if you have any ideas or anything you'd like to see in this fic! While I do have a general plot already down, I can squeeze some stuff in here and there. Also, I know this show is supposed to take place in San Diego, but for the purpose of this story, they're living in a state very close to Indiana. Happy reading & writing all! **

* * *

**Episode 11**

"I wouldn't have known anything was up if I hadn't seen the closet. All her stuff is _gone."_

Brandon lands at the bottom of the staircase, his ears perking subconsciously, operating on auto-pilot, even in such wee hours of the morning. And then he thinks about how early it really is, and how Mariana's voice is echoing in the kitchen, falling on listening ears and silent mouths that aren't usually present at such a time. Just like that, he's freaking out.

He's in the doorway in the next instant, making his presence known accidentally, his feet heavy and loud on the hard floor. His eyes are scanning the group seated around the island, piecing together the information in his brain, despite the fact that he doesn't really want to. He's smart. He gets it. There's really only one person that fits this scenario, and of course, it's the one person he really wishes didn't.

The twins know what he's going to say before he even has to open his mouth, they know he's always had a sweet spot for the girl. His mom's don't suspect much, but they can see it in his eyes that he's torn already, being the sweet, young man that he is. He's always cared a lot about everyone, so this shouldn't be different.

Except it is, and they're right that he cares, except they don't know to what extent. But Jude does, and he's staring at him with glassy eyes, tears yet to spill. What is that in his eyes? He can't decide now, he knows he should probably make it a priority to talk to Jude, but he just can't.

Stef sees him lock eyes with the young boy, and she mistakes it for sympathy, so she says, "Yes, Callie left, but she couldn't have gone far. We'll find her, B. I promise all of you, we'll find her."

"Mom."

His head twitches slightly towards the living room, and though nobody else picks up on it, she has a keen eye for this, and a certain expertise when it comes to her son and his quirks. She rises from her stool, squeezes Jude on the shoulder, and follows him into the living room. "Do you know where Callie is, Brandon?"

He's trying to play it somewhat cool, but inside, something is shriveling up and dying. The brief palpitations that sudden, intense fear brings have subsided, but they are replaced by equally frightening side effects, and he swears his feet are falling asleep, even as he stands on them. "When did she leave, mom?"

Stef glances over her shoulder quickly, zeroing in on the corner of Lena's eyes, where temporary wrinkles will soon become permanent. She offers up waffles to the three distressed children, who, despite their lack of hunger, nod in agreement, appearing zombie-like. Nonetheless, they seem oblivious to the conversation happening in the living room, so she continues on, her voice low and grainy. "Her bedside clock stopped sometime around 2 in the morning. She must've tripped on the cord and unplugged it while trying to get all her stuff together. Mariana and Jesus know this, but I can't tell Jude. I have to make him believe we have a better chance at finding her than we actually do."

He's just standing in the middle of the room, both of his arms stiffly at his sides, not moving. She knows that last line got him, so she adds, "But we'll find her, baby. It's a small world, after all."

He can feel her hand grazing his cheek, and he can hear her footsteps as they walk away from him, back into the kitchen where the rest of his family is trying to cope. He feels some kind of sheen glaze over his eyes, and he can see the wall in front of him, but he's not actually staring at it. He's somewhere in his mind, anywhere else but here. He can't just _cope_. He doesn't want to.

Because he knows the truth behind that damn song.

* * *

"So, have you heard from Lexi?"

Jesus looks up at his sister, who is standing in his doorway, leaning on its frame. She's holding her phone in her hands, flipping it around through anxious fingers, though for what reason she's fidgeting, he's unsure. There's too many.

He sits up on his bed, retrieving his phone out of his back pocket before he presses his full weight into the mattress. He checks it for about the eleventh time in the past half hour. "Nope, and by the look on your face, I'm guessing you haven't either."

She takes his body language as an invite and situates herself next to her brother on the bed, sighing as she does so. "I'm sure she'll text us both soon. I'm more worried about everybody else. I mean, did you see that look on Jude's face?" She doesn't recall seeing Jude on his bed, but to be sure she leans to the side and checks again. His bed is a mess of sheets and comforter, and his pillow is missing from it, strewn across the floor somewhere. It's like he could feel the absence of his sister as he slept, his distress clear. "Speaking of which, where is he?"

"Mom's took him out with them to look for Callie. He knows all her favorite shops around here."

Mariana almost wants to scoff, but knows now is probably not the best time to be caustic. "They can't really think she'd still be in town, can they?"**  
**

"They can't file the missing persons report until tomorrow, and you know sitting around won't do Jude any good. Makes me feel a little better, too. Ignorance is bliss, right?"

She shakes her head. Even in her despair, she manages to maintain the need to correct her twin. "Ignorance doesn't work that way. You don't get to choose it."

He rolls his eyes, trying to think up something witty, when both of their phones light up. They're racing to unlock them, and they're both thinking _Lexi, finally, _but it ends up being Lena, texting them to let them know the three of them are eating dinner at a local cafe, and they can all come on down and join them or stay home and eat something there, whatever they're up to.

"I need to get out of this house." Mariana grumbles, pushing off the bed. "You?"

"Yeah, but what about Brandon?"

They exchange knowing looks, tapping in on that sort of telepathy they've always had. Truth be told, neither really need to say much to get a point across. They both know why he's so torn up, why he's been locked in his room all day, pounding away on the ivories. They just don't know _why. _

"Something happened, Jesus. I don't know what, but Brandon wasn't the same at the wedding."

He agrees, naturally. "I got that, too. But it's worth a shot."

* * *

"I know you still have your phone, and you're going to listen to these messages soon or later. You need to come home. Whatever made you leave, whatever the reason, I'm sure it's nothing compared to where you've wound up." He runs his hand through his unruly hair in frustration as he thinks on that last statement. "God, Callie, you could be hurt right now and there's nothing I can do about it." He thinks about mentioning Jude, but he knows better than playing the guilt card. By now, he's the master at knowing what chisels away at that wall of hers and what only adds to it. "At least let me know if you're safe. Somehow. I don't think that's too much to ask for."

And he's spent so much time just breathing into the phone that her voicemail cuts him off. He considers leaving another, but he's already left three, and if she really cares about him in the way she made it seem just yesterday, she'd call back.

He sets his phone down on the keyboard, but his eyes stay peeled to the screen. There's five unread messages from Talya and one unread message from Lena. He ignores both.

Until there's a loud, obnoxious knock on his door, jarring him in his place. "My headphones aren't in!"

The door opens slowly and Jesus slips in from behind it, looking sheepish. "Sorry, thought you had them in. Have you checked your phone lately? Mom's are down at Rod's and we're going to go join them, you coming?"

This obviously angers him. "They're eating? They should be out looking for Callie!"

"Dude, they've been looking for her all day," Jesus replies quietly, in hopes to quell his brother's rising voice, but when his eyebrows refuse to return to their normal place on his face, he adds defensively, "We kinda need our bodies functioning properly to even try to find her!"

"_Try," _he repeats, releasing a short, bitter laugh, "right. Well, in that case, I'll man the house in case she decides to come back. Cause, you know, that's apparently very possible."

Jesus reaches behind him for the doorknob, drilling holes with his eyes in the back of his brother's head, who refuses to turn around this whole conversation. "We're all really worried about her. What gives you the right above all of us to be a dick about it?"

He stands, suddenly, and strides over to his brother, shutting the door forcefully behind his head. His nostrils are larger than usual, and his face is a little too close for comfort. "We kissed! Callie and I kissed! While none of you have even bothered to try to get to know her, to help her out of her shell, I've been slaving away trying to help her _trust _again! And you know what? She finally does, she finally trusts me. And now she's gone!"

The words seep out of his mouth before he can stop them. "Did you ever think that maybe that's why she left?"

He regrets them instantly. But Brandon's not advancing on him, he's retreating, and his eyebrows are slipping back into place, along with his mouth that had found its way upside down on his face. His voice is low but it's not quiet, and it rumbles like thunder around them. "Of course."

"I'm sure that's not why-"

"You better go, you shouldn't keep mom's waiting."

Jesus still feels really bad, but he knows there's not much more he can do when his brother gets like this. So he just nods. "I'll bring you home my leftovers."

He holds open the door for him, taking comfort in the familiar squeak of the rusty hinges, and the familiar quips of his brother. Familiarity, that's what he needs to keep his mind off things. "We both know that's an empty promise."

And he's trying,_ really_ trying to sound happy as he says this, and Jesus even tries to smile in encouragement, but behind the facade of a happy family is always baggage. So he shuts the door. The only convincing walls are those that are palpable.

* * *

A bunch of nothingness zips by. That's all it's been for a while. In great company is a slew of bad music.

"This sucks."

Wyatt glances at the small girl beside him, a smirk playing on his lips. She sees him but doesn't look back, just keeps her eyes on some tree in the distance, fending off car sickness. Summer days and broken A/C is a dangerous combination, as well as running away and ex-boyfriends.

"Care to elaborate?"

Finally she turns to him, but her eyes are smaller than usual, glued in a glare for what seems like miles. "This. band. sucks."

He chuckles, and it's annoying her, his happiness is annoying her. She was so close to taking the bus, so close to making the right choice for once, but fate stopped her again, because they could never have that. They could never let Callie Jacobs make a good decision. "Well, that was definitely progress, but I was looking for somewhere around _four _words."

"Alright," she gives in, throwing up her hands dramatically, and he smiles a little again, "what do you want?"

He keeps a firm grip on the wheel, but sneaks a look at her again, his eyes round and unusually bright. He flips his hair off to the side, leaning awkwardly in his seat to keep it out of the way. "Just wondering when you're going to tell me why you're running away."

She is back to being the lonely girl on the bench, still nameless to him, not the one he spent weeks getting to know, and she's evading his questions with her own. "Well, if you care so much, why are you helping me run away?"

"Is this a car game? We answer questions with more questions?"

She sheds her jacket, chucking it in the backseat. "Things just didn't work out the way I thought they were going to. So I'm moving on."

"Don't you have a little brother?"

She looks away, but not at the barren wasteland that surrounds them, because God, she can't look at that any longer. Instead she focuses on the sideview mirror, watches as the road disappears after a certain point, after they put more space between her and Jude. "He's safe with them. They're going to adopt him."

Wyatt's about to cuss or hit the brakes, one or the other or both, when he stops himself. He can't talk. He's not one to. He has his fair amount of twisted shit in his life, he's in no place to tell her she's making a mistake. But now he knows. She told him without realizing it. She left so she wouldn't have to stand around while her lover became her brother.

"As long as you're sure."

His words seem to evoke memories of a certain Foster boy, and the way he promised, just with those cerulean eyes alone, to take care of her forever. "Positive. He's cared for."

He smiles again, but this time it's soft, and there's a little empathy behind it. "You are, too."

She doesn't smile back, she doesn't do anything in fact, she just looks at him, her face void of all emotion. With one arm, he pulls off to the side of the road, picking up his phone from the cup holder. Before she can ask, he explains, "Just texting my mom real quick, letting her know I'm almost there."

"You know, nothing lets someone know you're there better than actually being there."

He chuckles at her impatience. "Remind me again why I let you a hitch a ride?"

"I'd rather not."

But behind their bickering is some sort of silent agreement to stick together, to have each other's backs, even if it means just as friends. They are both content with just that, and both comfortable with the silence that they ride in for the remainder of the trip.

* * *

He's still sitting at the piano bench, except he's not playing, when his phone lights up again. He almost doesn't check to see who it is, because he's sure it's just Talya again, but something is jumping in his stomach, compelling him to read his messages.

It's from Wyatt.

He's off the seat, then, standing again, thumb sliding sloppily across the screen in his haste to unlock his phone. He remembers when he found Wyatt alone once at school, and insisted they exchanged numbers, if when he were out with Callie, her phone dies. Just in case of an emergency, he remembers saying. For his mother's sake, he said. But they both knew who it was really for.

Neither boy ever found himself having to use it, and never thought they would ever have to.

So the fact that Wyatt's name is on his screen now is enough to make his heart stop, whether out of dread or relief, he's unsure yet. He opens the message, ignoring the ones that are piling up under Talya's contact.

_Hey man ive got callie. I cant bring her back now you know she wont let me but were headed for indiana. text me when you get here. wyatt_

The apparent lack of punctuation finds no place in his mind, because all he can think about is bringing Callie back, knowing and seeing her safe in person and not just in words. He's out the door before both of his shoes are even on all the way, his fingers dancing across the keypad of his phone as he dials a number.

"Hello?"

"Dad? I'm coming over."

There's a long pause on the other end, the exact amount of alcohol present in his blood obvious when he finally speaks. "I don't know, now's not the best time."

"Now's perfect."

He hangs up the phone just in time to catch their neighbor waving at him from across the street. He waves back just as he strolls past his car in the driveway, casting it a quick glance before continuing down the sidewalk. He thinks he'll walk today.

* * *

_Next week on The Fosters: _

_Stef and Lena must decide whether or not to get the police involved with finding Callie, given her probation circumstances_

_Brandon finds Callie in the nick of time_

_and more_

_All new, Monday, August 12th _


	2. Episode 12

**A/N Omg. I just...can't. You guys are amazing. 20 reviews, 41 favs, and 88 follows on one chapter. I love you all so much! So I know I was able to respond to all of your reviews personally for Episode 11 (except for the anons, who I am also grateful to), but if you guys keep reviewing at this rate, I'll be in over my head! You blow me away. So to thank you all for that, I wrote an extra long chapter for you guys! 5000 words, baby. Also, I broke my toe over vacation so I had a lot of extra free writing time, hee hee. I'm not gonna lie, the beginning of this chapter was a little hard for me to get through. I just wanted to get to the Brallie goodness! I hope this chapter satisfies you as much as it satisfies me! I promise, the Brallie moments will be picking up soon. ****I know this chapter may leave you with a few questions, but I assure you they'll be addressed in the following episodes. Callie may seem a little OOC, but that's because she's changing a little. I promise she won't be so annoying for long. ****If you have any questions or concerns or ideas you wanna leave for me, drop in a review! Keep reviewing y'all, you rock! The more reviews I get, the longer the chapters I want to write! Until next monday, my lovely readers!**

* * *

**Episode 12**

"Before you say anything, at least hear me out-"

"Dad." Brandon deadpans, pushing his way into his father's apartment, despite his obvious physical protests. He shuts the door behind him but does not lock it, and brushes past his overly intoxicated father to the center of the main living room. "I didn't come to argue with you. This is getting so old that I don't even care anymore."

He just stands in the middle of that room, eyes set almost casually on his father, who has suddenly grown a pair of gills and is floundering, in need of water. His mouth opens and shuts slowly, slightly, the glass of his fish bowl broken. His son was the glue when it broke the first time, but now, even he doesn't care anymore. He'll let him shrivel.

But it's like Brandon knows what he's thinking, because in the next second he's back tracking, trying to make things right again, even if it won't bring him the justice he deserves. It's just what he does, and it's not something that'll ever change. "Dad, I-I don't mean I don't care,"

"How can I make you happy?" he asks quietly, almost shrinking with shame. Brandon knows his father doesn't mean to do it, but his actions stir something horrid up in his stomach, and suddenly he just wants to hug him. But he can't. He can't encourage his behavior.

The obvious answer is _stop drinking, _but it doesn't take a genius to figure that one won't do much for long. So he seizes the opportunity to get what he came here for, and nods towards the kitchen. "You could start by fixing me something. I haven't eaten."

His eyes, despite the fog that has rolled in over them, light up instantly. "Okay," he agrees enthusiastically, heading for the fridge, "okay, I can do that. What're you in the mood for? Where's your mom? Why didn't you eat with her? Is something wrong?"

Brandon hangs back in the living room, gradually making his way over to the catch-all tray on the coffee table. He hears a burner on the stove light up, and he raises his voice to be heard over the flame. "Everything's fine, dad."

He's hoping the sizzle of something in the pan will cover the uncertainty in his voice, and the inevitable jangle of his father's car keys as he drops them into his pocket. He swears he can feel the coolness of them through his jeans. "I hope you like tuna!"

"Yeah." By the time he replies, his hand's on the knob, and it's so icy that it's burning the flesh on his fingers, and he agrees quietly, "tuna's fine."

But his words don't make it past the doorway, and by the time his dad registers this, he's already down the street.

* * *

Jesus and Mariana slip into the booth without a word. Their lips are pulled tightly, but their faces scream insight, and it doesn't take long for their moms to pick up on this. Jude doesn't acknowledge them as they wiggle into their seats, his eyes on his lap, though he doesn't even bother to feign fascination.

"Brandon didn't want to come?"

Mariana's eyes dart to Jesus, who is smart enough not to be so obvious. He addresses Lena as nonchalantly as possible, pretending not to feel the frantic gaze of his sister. "Nah, he said he felt like he was getting sick."

"Ah," Stef swirls her straw in her water, the ice clinking against the inside of the glass as she does so, "I wouldn't be surprised. What, with everything that's going on, it can take its toll." She zeroes in on Mariana, who appears to be intensely focused on the menu. "You okay, Mariana?"

"What?" she looks up, tries to look in her mother's eyes, but falls back on Jesus again. He refrains from shooting her a glare while they're watching, but he does nudge her side a little, and she spits out, "Of course I am, why are you asking?"

One of Stef's eyebrows reaches for her hairline, and there's a little worried laugh behind her words as she explains, "Well you never look at the menu here, you always know what you want."

"Club sandwich, right?" Lena adds, and it's in the most innocent way possible, free of all accusation and undertones, but Mariana still finds herself trying to disappear into the red, rubber vinyl of the seat, though the sweat under her thighs has her stuck in place. Jesus can see that this alone has done them in, and with a rueful sigh, he spills.

"Brandon and Callie kissed."

A head rises from between the two mother's, who have stopped looking at their menus, stopped playing with their ice water, stopped tapping their feet against the table leg. Two twelve-year-old eyes are shooting around the table now, watching the imaginary pinball as it bounces off Jesus, Mariana, and Lena, but when it reaches Stef, it ricochets strangely and falls back into the hole at the bottom. Nobody even notices the waitress standing over them until she speaks.

"What can I get for you?"

With the utmost seriousness in her voice, Stef regards the waitress. "An aspirin."

* * *

"This is it."

Wyatt steers the car past the massive house and into the driveway, which is slightly worn and goes back for what seems like miles. Callie catches a good glimpse of the inside of the house through the large, glass windows as they roll past it, traveling back towards the casita. It appears to be well-furnished, but it's not over-the-top, and what it lacks is made up for in the attached house behind it. "You have your own _house."_

He shrugs, smiling a little as he puts the car in park. "Of sorts."

He pops the trunk and swings himself out of the car, already unpacking, but Callie just stays in the passengers seat. She's no longer admiring the plot, but she's thinking about how great it would be to have a plan B like this. To have something to fall back on when Plan A doesn't work out. That was his first house. And though the look on his face tells her he's less than pleased to be here, she knows that deep down, he knows he's lucky. He has family when the going gets tough. She has none.

And the going is always tough.

"So you wanna check it our or what?"

She feels the warm breeze hit her side and she just now notices him leaning on her open door, two duffel bags slung over his shoulders. Silently, she picks up her own bag off her feet and hauls her heavy spirit out of the car.

When they enter, the blinds are drawn, it smells musty, and when Wyatt drops his bags on the floor, dust stirs in the air. He coughs whatever he's just breathed in, waving a hand in front of his face. "It needs a little TLC but-"

"It's perfect." she cuts him off, but when she smiles, it's a sad one. "It's a roof over my head and that's all I really wanted. And I promise you, as soon as I can get my own place, I'll be out of your hair."

He watches her as she moves across the room to open the blinds. The sunlight pours over their faces and into the room, which is surprisingly warm, with creamy golden walls and a large, plush sectional. She forces open the windows, letting in the fresh air as he begins, "Callie, you know that-"

"I mean it," she faces him, and the sun is peaking behind her, outlining her head and making it almost impossible to see her smile. But he does, and he can see that it isn't as forced as they usually are, and that she really is grateful to him. He's not about to deny her an emotion she is finally allowing herself to show, and he, as much as it pains him, nods in acceptance.

He points to the sectional. "That pulls out in to a sleeper. I'll take this and you can take the room, if you want."

"No," she finds her way over to it and falls on top of it, splaying her body out so that it she's hogging most of it, and grins at him. "I'll be comfortable here, but thanks."

He disappears into his room with a smile, then returns shortly with a thin magazine. He holds it up to her before flinging it at her. "TV guide. Looks like you'll be in charge of the flat screen."

She gapes, bounces off the couch, and bounds over to the large cabinet that is hiding the enormous television. She lets out a little incredulous laugh before addressing him. "You know, you may not be able to get rid of me, after all."

He folds his arms over his chest, but it's a casual gesture. "There's a little restaurant down the street that might need some help, if you're looking to make some money. Nothing too great, probably just washing dishes or whatever."

Some sound escapes her throat, and it's something between a scoff and a cough, dust particles visible in the rays of sunlight that now bathe the carpet. "You forget that I probably have people looking for me as we speak. They could easily track me once I'm employed."

"They can pay you under the table. No questions asked. I used to work there a couple of summers ago, before I was even of age for any kind of job."

She's slightly humored, but sarcasm is dripping from her tongue. "Sounds like the perfect place to work."

"You don't need perfect, you need do-able."

She raises her arms slowly, stretching almost cat-like, her muscles cramped from sitting in such a small space for so long. "Okay, I'll check it out. I think I'll go down there now."

He eyes his car in the driveway, the trunk door still ajar, numerous boxes visible, then narrows his eyes on her. She's already stepping over the threshold when he calls, "Right, how convenient."

She shakes her head through the sliver remaining between the door and the frame, helpless to the natural curve of her lips. "Don't be a baby."

He stays grimacing at the closed door.

* * *

"Okay," Stef says slowly, nodding curtly at the waitress as she sets down their food in front of them. Mariana and Jesus had taken the whole time it took to cook their food just to explain all the back story they knew to their mothers, who had remained quiet for the most part, but now that it's finally their turn to speak, they're at a loss for words. "So, now we...what do we do, Lena?"

Nobody touches their food, except Jude, who nibbles on a french fry as he looks up at the two woman above him, who are exchanging looks of pure helplessness. Lena folds her hands together, her fingers turning white at the tips as she unknowingly squeezes them. "I mean, what can we do?"

Mariana, who has been chewing on her straw nervously, pipes in. "Can I say something?"

They look to her, but they don't encourage her, and they don't call her endearing names. They forget to do all these things through their internal struggles. "I know it's forbidden or whatever to do this, but they care about each other. Callie really _cares _about him. She pretends not to because she's not used to. That's the thing. I think he makes her feel again. I don't think I really need to say anything more."

Somebody objects, but it's neither Stef nor Lena. "But it's not fair."

"What isn't, Jude?" Lena's eyebrows trek into familiar territory, and she places an arm around his shoulders, urging him to look up at them, as he had been playing around with his food through Mariana's whole speech.

He flings a french fry down onto his plate, but doesn't meet their eyes. "If they're together, then you can't adopt me."

"They're not together, baby," Stef reassures instantly, unaware of the defeated look Mariana sends Jesus, who reciprocates. "And they're not going to be. Nothing is going to change, we still want to adopt you."

"What about Callie?"

Lena squeezes him and pulls him into her side a little, blinking slowly, exhausted. Stef answers for her. "We'll figure that out when we find her, alright? Right now-" her phone buzzes loudly and she yanks it from its place on her belt, groaning when she sees the caller ID. "What does he want?"

"Who is it?"

Stef picks up, albeit, hesitantly, and exhales loudly in to the phone. "What is it, Mike?" Even from a distance Lena can hear his slurred ramblings from the other line, and aggravation is written all over her spouse's face. She opens her mouth to interrupt him, but then the words _Brandon stole my car _slink through the phone line, and she's clocked out.

She waves at Lena to scoot out of the both, and though she's baffled and extremely curious, she complies and pulls Jude out with her. Stef jams towards the bathroom, away from the table, where her family won't hear her yelling at him, though the suspicion she's created is almost as bad.

She's relieved when she finds it empty. "I can't believe this! You're tanked, Mike, again! I- no, don't even try to play that card with me, I know you're going through some shit right now but this is not a walk in the park for me, my foster child has run away and now you're telling me that my son has gone after her, and- yes, that's why he stole your car, why else? I can't even do this right now, you had one simple job as a father and you've failed! Again!"

The line cuts, but she's unsure if he hung up or she did, as her extreme fury seems to be clouding all her thoughts and memories. She faces the mirror briefly, twists on the cold water, and splashes her face, which feels like its been exposed to an open oven door. She watches the water drip off her chin for a few seconds before wiping it, half-assed, with a paper towel. When she returns to the table, her eyebrows are still wet and misshapen as she says, "Brandon's gone. Come on."

Mariana and Jesus are already sliding out of their side when Lena shakes out of her shock, her hands flying wildly as she speaks. "What? He went after Callie? We haven't even payed...come where? We don't even know where she is! How does Brandon? Shouldn't we just wait until we can file a report?"

Stef throws down a few twenties and pulls a face at them, which forces them out of their seats. "We can't involve the police. Callie's still on probation, so even if we find her, it won't matter. This could get her sent away again." Mariana and Jesus head out the door, but Jude hovers around the two women, panic flashing over his eyes. Stef sees this. "But we'll find her alone. Brandon knows where she is or he wouldn't have left. I'm calling him now."

She holds the humming device to her inflamed ear, and as it rings, Lena mumbles, loud enough for only Stef to hear, "This family is falling apart."

They push through the heavy doors, attracting a few intrigued patrons, and Stef assures, thoroughly determined, "Not for long."

* * *

Just as he's about to finally turn on the radio, after sitting through dead silence for the first fifteen minutes, his phone rings, it's shrill scream making him inwardly cringe and resort to answering it. He knows what's about to happen so he doesn't even bother to try to talk, just waits for the tirade that is inevitable. The second they're connected, she's off.

"Brandon, what is going on? You haven't answered any of my texts or calls!"

His hands tighten around the steering wheel. "I know, and I'm sorry, Talya. There's just a lot going on right now and I couldn't find the time to respond. I hope you understand."

"But I'm your girlfriend, you could've at least let me known what was going on real quick, I would've-"

"I'm driving right now and I really can't talk-"

"Just put it on speaker, then-"

"It_ is_ on speaker, but I don't have time for this."

"Where are you driving to? Why aren't you telling me what's going on?"

"Callie ran away, so I'm going to get her."

She says nothing for a beat, then softly utters, "Oh."

He rolls his eyes, suddenly very glad they're having this conversation over the phone and not in person. "See, this is why I didn't want to tell you. I knew you'd get like this."

"It's fine, really."

He wants to scream. "I know it's not with you."

"Well, it's just," there's rustling in the background and he guesses she's probably sitting up now, gearing up for another burst of bitching, "Callie's always doing stupid stuff and you always seem to be the one assigned her baby sitter. Then there's no time for us."

He's getting so caught up in his anger now that he barely brakes in time to not rear end the car in front of him on the freeway. He thought Talya had changed. He thought she had gotten over whatever insecurity she was going through, and though now she actually has something to be insecure about, she's unaware of it, but insecure nonetheless. "I seriously can't believe you right now. I can't do this."

"You can't do _what?"_

"Everything! I don't know, I just..." he's no longer stopped on the freeway now, but there's work traffic, and he wants to bang his head on the wheel. He finally knows where Callie is, and while he's trying to get to her, there's thousands of cars ahead of him, going 10 miles an hour. He should just anticipate more obstacles now. "I've got to go."

"Brandon-"

He knows its not fair to her, but he doesn't know how to make things right yet. "Don't call me later."

He hears the beginning of his name pass over her lips once more but he ends the call, letting his phone drop back into the cup holder rather violently. He can't stand it when she says his name. It used to make him go nuts, but now it just drives him crazy.

He's settling back into the silence when it goes off again, and just because he needs that little burst of angry motivation again at the sight of her name, he checks the screen.

But it's his mom, not Talya. He isn't surprised, he was actually expecting her to call sooner. He lets it ring a few times before sending it straight to voicemail. He doesn't need her kind of angry motivation, and he's in for a world of it when he gets home.

He flicks on the radio, catching the end of _Highway to Hell. _He can't think of anything more fitting.

* * *

She glances at the clock as she enters. It's almost 9. The job inquiry had somehow turned into a job interview, and the job interview had somehow turned in to job training, but she isn't going to complain. It feels nice to be so wanted.

There aren't any lights on, so she shuts the door quietly behind her, assuming Wyatt is already in bed. It wouldn't be strange, after all, he had driven a few hours and unpacked a car full of crap. She's digging almost silently through her bag when she hears the low rumble of his voice, and she tucks her hair behind one ear, eyeing the crack in his bedroom door. He's talking to someone, but it can't be himself. He's a little messed up, but not that bad.

She crawls closer to it, trying to pick up what he's saying. She doesn't have the television on, but the open window is letting in the sounds of the city, including car horns and a helicopter over head. It's only when she's all the way up against the door that she can finally hear him.

"Yeah, you'll see it, it's the only two-story house on the block, yellow. Yeah, it's on the left of it." She suddenly feels rather silly, seeing as it seems he's merely talking to a friend he's inviting over, so she starts to inch away. But before she's out of range, she catches him say, "Yeah, thanks, Brandon."

_Traitor._

Her coat is in her hands and her shoelaces aren't even tied all the way and she doesn't know where she's going but she's running, running out the door and down the broken sidewalks and across the beaten streets and she's rubbing against a chain link fence that squeals noisily as she does so, and she's hoping she didn't make nearly as much noise when she fled the house. Because they can't find her, _he _can't find her, cause God knows what she'll do if he does.

And when she closes her eyes, she can see his face, she can imagine his face, disappointed and upset and just rejoiced to have found her, rejoiced to have found the girl he kissed and likes and maybe even loves and she may want to kiss him again, she may want to release everything she is and everything she stands for, just for him. And she can't release who is she, because she'll choose herself over him, any day. Sixteen years of life and the only person she's ever been able to count on is herself.

Her phone is shifting in her hand and she doesn't stop it, just watches as his name slips off her screen and her phone slips out of her hand, bouncing on the pavement. She looks back, and it's not broken, but she knows the deal with things like that. They'll try and try to convince themselves that they're not broken, that they've got life in them yet, and then one day, they'll just stop. And it's worse than if they had just bitten the dust to begin with.

Her legs are threatening to give out underneath her, refusing to run any further in converse. She hops that same fence, grunting as she hits the sand below, but she keeps going, forcing herself further into the public lake she remembers passing earlier. It's dark now, and there's not a soul in sight, but she wants it that way.

The tiny, pebble sand scrapes her knee where there is a tear in her jeans but she simply swipes the rocks out of her skin and keeps moving.

* * *

Brandon's just turning down Wyatt's block when he calls him again, sputtering into the phone, "I think Callie heard me on the phone with you and she ran, man, a few minutes ago."

His foot is lead and he's zooming past Wyatt's large house, catching a glimpse of where Callie's staying. He swears he can see Wyatt's upright form through the open window, and he almost forgets he's on the phone with him, then mumbles, "I'll find her," and hangs up.

He blows through a yellow light seconds before it turns red, his eyes scanning the sidewalk frantically. There's nothing behind him, there's nothing ahead of him, just a bunch of broken concrete and sprouting weeds. There's a discarded phone, it's blackened screen catching the moonlight briefly, and he eases on the brakes, something compelling him to stop in this spot. Behind the phone is a rusty fence, and behind the rusty fence is a sort of navy darkness, littered only with pulsating, silver anomalies that can only signify water, reflecting the massive moon on its surface.

He should keep going, he should get back in the car, but he's flinging open the door before he can stop it, his fingers curling around the metal fence diamonds, pruned hands on printer paper. His foot slips over the phone, but he doesn't pick it up yet, he's afraid to find out who it belongs to. So he just stares out to the lake, thinking maybe if he squints long enough, she'll appear.

And then there's a figure moving in the darkness, in the only spot light remains, the water. It's her height, it's her build, it's _her, _and she's swimming further in to the liquid darkness, further away from him, but he's already over the fence. He's running at first, but the water is up to her neck, and then the water has enveloped her whole body, her head bobbing under, so then he's sprinting, the sand heavy under his ungraceful feet.

He hits the water and his muscles feel thick, every which one of them begging him to get out, _it's too cold. _But he picks them up over the water and continues in like this, almost skipping as he goes, so that the strength of the flow against him will not slow him down. The water is only to his sternum when he feels her at his feet, and she shoots out of the surface, gasping for air.

When he seizes both of her arms, she gasps again, but it's not for more air. He swears he can hear her cursing under her breath, but it's not of anger, it's of extreme devastation. Her eyes are still squeezed shut from when she was underwater, and he flips her around, still holding her shaking form. "What the hell, Callie?"

Back in the brisk, night air again, she finally registers how cold the water really is, and her jaw aches with the startings of chatter. She doesn't need to open her eyes to know who's holding her, but she does anyway, looking up at him with burning, bloodshot orbs. The gentle rhythm of the lake pushes her into him, and she grabs both sides of his cardigan just to steady herself, but when she finds his top half still warm from the heater of the car, she has a hard time letting go.

But it doesn't matter, because he's pulling her by the waist, forcing her out of the water, the water sloshing obnoxiously around the commotion. He easily overpowers her stubborness and in the next second they're on the beach, clothes drenched and covered in hard sand. He's yelling at her, the emotional stress raising his blood pressure. "That water is freezing, are you crazy? What were you doing?"

Her hair is hanging in strings, and there's some attached to her lips, which are wet and paler than usual. There are droplets in her eyelashes and as she blinks at him, they dribble down her cheeks and into her open mouth. "Swimming."

He can see the muscles in her neck are clenched as she suppresses the chills, but she can't hold them much longer and she exhales shakily, her whole body racking with shivers and silent sobs. He lifts her to her feet and helps her over the fence and into the car, where he switches the heater on to the highest setting.

"Let's go get your stuff."

* * *

Wyatt is ready with her tidied bag in the driveway when they arrive, and as Brandon exits to retrieve it, he's smart enough to set the child lock while she waits in the car. He doesn't see her test it, but she does.

Through the thin glass of the windshield she can hear them exchanging their gratitude and she scowls. The heater hasn't dried her clothes but they're warm now, and her blood is flowing again, pumping to all her vital parts, like her toes, which she'll need for more running. When he steps back in, he turns off the child lock, and she's quick to push her door open, but he's even quicker to lean across her and shut it.

He just stays there, stretched across her body, which is retreating into the car seat, trying to put space between them, but he can still feel her breath against his cheek, and he can smell damp lake on her skin. He hits the child lock again and settles back into his seat, turning the key in the ignition. He really doesn't need her rolling out on the freeway.

"Please stop running."

She's staring at Wyatt, who's waiting to watch them leave, but she doesn't return the gesture when he waves at them. He didn't expect her to, but he also didn't expect her to just sit there and look through him. He's back in his house in the next moment, tired of this game.

She snaps the vent shut suddenly, cutting off all heat to her area. He glances at her, watches as she wipes the rubble off her rigid jeans, sees how her hair is already drying perfectly straight, along with her mouth. He pulls out of the driveway and they're on their way home, and he can feel something shoot through him briefly, something similar to hope.

"I wish...I wish I knew what to say to you."

Her knees are against her chest and her toes are gripping the seat and she just can't get comfortable but she manages to say one last thing before checking out of her mind, checking out of this painful world that offers her no mercy. "Me too."

* * *

_Next week on The Fosters:_

_Brandon and Callie must deal with the repercussions of their actions_

_Stef and Lena must figure out the adoption _

_Mariana and Jesus hear from Lexi, Jesus makes a split-second decision that may endanger the stability of the family once again_

_and further developments in the Brandon/Talya and Jude/Callie crises_

_All new, Monday, August 19th _


	3. Episode 13

**A/N: Are we breaking up, my beautiful readers? :( I fear that we are. While the response to Episode 12 was amazing (50+ follows, 40+ reviews, 120+ faves), I was expecting more feedback. I've got over 3000 views on this thing but a lot of ghost readers. I mean, you guys are already awesome enough just for reading this story, but I know a way you can be awesome-er! ;) I'd really love to hear what you guys like, what you guys don't like, what you guys wanna see, etc. Even if it's just a word or two, drop in a review if you've got time! I appreciate it much more than you think. I'll even return the favor! I'm eager to read some of your guys' stuff, too! But no pressure, this story will be here no matter what. Special shoutouts to **GleeLovatoFan**, ****RL13436, **OTHangels, omotot, IHEARTFOUR98, HPMudBlood, goodgirl21, LilithFanBebeNeuwrotic, DarkMelody, lizabeth143, PLLlover7, my-middle-name-is-awkward, Stephy-Dearestxxo, happytears5, Catarina, ChocolateMoosrePi, lynn, roganjalex, TheMysteriousBeauty, Jane, OTHFAN26, ChibiLova18, GlitterGirl123, Athena, BellaBaker86, cassiejohnson05, wiltedblackroses, Kmtb1234, Sherlyn -Queen -B, InHereIAm, TeamDelena97, and all my anons! And thank you to everyone that has faved and/or followed! It makes me so happy to hear that this story makes you guys look forward to Mondays! I'm super excited for you guys to read this chapter and next weeks, too! Things are about to get complicated! I wouldn't jump to conclusions about anything I've read, if I were you... ;) See ya next Monday!

* * *

**Episode 13**

Callie didn't sleep a wink, and though she pretended to, Brandon knows she didn't. He knows by the way her thumb kept finding its way to her mouth as she slept, and her nail to her teeth, and the way she held her breath every time they turned on to a residential street, afraid to open her eyes and find herself home.

_Home. _What a funny word.

If she didn't think this house was her home before, it's even more so not now.

And Brandon also knows that this is what she's thinking, however incorrect it may be, so when they finally turn down their street, Brandon takes a shot at reassuring her. When she realizes that he's talking to her while her eyes are still shut, she knows she's been busted. Feigning slumber was always a sort of defensive mechanism in her past. Clearly she isn't as good at it as she used to be. "I stole my dad's car, I left without telling anyone, and I haven't answered any of my mom's calls. Whatever is waiting when we get home, it'll be for both of us. You're not alone."

It feels nice to just accept his valiant gesture for a moment, but she doesn't for long. Because that's not how things work out in life. At least, not for her. She knows what's waiting for her, and it's not something who's magnitude will lessen with a little teamwork and hand holding. So she keeps her eyes shut. The darkness is lighter than anything to come.

* * *

"Still nothing?"

Lena steps into the living room, the usual glasses of wine missing from her hands, though in its place are two mugs of coffee, completely black. As much as they both need a glass of wine right now, they know it's probably not in their best interest if they're going to keep trying Brandon's number, even if it takes until the next morning.

The moon is already at its highest point, the darkest time of night has already passed, and the faintest glow of dawn is coming in from the open blinds. They sit side by side on the couch, tense in their positions, constantly watching for headlights in the driveway. Stef hangs up the phone after it sends her to his voicemail for the umpteenth time, depositing it on the table before burying her head in her hands. Lena sets down her coffee to wrap around her wife.

"Hey," her voice lacks conviction but it's the cheerier of the duo, "I'm sure they're on their way home now. Brandon and Callie. I'm sure they'll be pulling up any minute now, unharmed."

She removes her face from her clammy hands to meet her eyes, and though she isn't crying, her features have taken on characteristics of those that have been. And she can see that Lena's really trying to be her rock now, and it really does mean a lot to her, considering Lena's usually the one who needs the comfort. But this is all she can take away from it, and nothing more. "I just don't know what I'm going to do with either of them when they get back."

In the next second, Lena's hands have encased her own, and then she's squeezing back, leaning her weight into the tall woman next to her, basking in her warmth. For a second, this suffices. "Let's just worry about getting them home safely first."

"Of course."

Stef closes her eyes against her shoulder, letting the even breath of her wife in her hair soothe her nerves, and for the first time that day she thinks she could actually fall asleep. But then the flow to her head has stopped, and Lena's urging her upright, exclaiming, "Oh my God, they're home!"

Shaking out of the sort of trance she had fallen in, Stef, in her sudden relief, manages to joke, "Either I've just married a very twisted woman or they've got impeccable timing," and scrambles to her knees on the couch.

The engine gives one good, last roar before fading out, and they can see Brandon and Callie just sitting in the car, with the spotlights still blaring on the garage door, clearly stalling. Without a word, the two women fly out the front door, making eye contact for the first time with the two teenagers as they finally step out of the car. Brandon looks slightly relieved to find that they're running at them with open arms, but Callie is mortified.

They engulf Callie in a hug first, since she's closest, but she's too terrified to even get her arms to return the loving gesture. She wants to feel it, she wants to be able to savor the feeling any normal person would be feeling, but she feels nothing, and she just stands there stiffly as they rattle on about how worried they were about her. She doesn't even think they're telling the truth.

As Brandon comes around to the other side, Stef breaks away to pull her son into her arms, but Lena stays with Callie. She can sense something's not right. Callie's always been a little different, a little sadder than everyone else, and knowing her back story, she can see why. She just has so many questions, they both do, but they know they're not getting anything out of her for a while.

Brandon's arms are around his mother but his eyes are on Callie, deep concern tugging his mouth into a frown. He wants his moms to just give her some space, but he doesn't know how to ask, and he's not really in a good place to.

"Nobody's hurt?"

Callie almost has to laugh at Lena. She wouldn't have run away if she wasn't.

But she knows that's not what she means so she shakes her head slowly, wincing slightly at the sudden migraine that is threatening to manifest itself and tear through her brain. Brandon is starting to look pretty pissed that he can't do anything more to help the girl next to him, but he manages to answer his mother, and lets the two lead them back into the house.

"There's so much we both want to say," Stef admits as she closes the door quietly behind them, hoping not to wake the other children, though it will be morning soon, anyway. "And need to know. And we don't want you to feel uncomfortable at any point in this conversation so just let us know if you do."

This conversation is supposed to be for both of them, but both teens can't help feeling it's solely directed at Callie. Brandon feels the need to inch in front of her a little, seeing that, by the look on her face, she's already starting to feel rather uncomfortable, and begins to protest, "Mom-"

But Callie finally speaks. "I want to sleep."

They all stop and look at her, and when they do, Callie even finds herself scooting behind Brandon's arm. It's strange. He had always been the one she trusted the most at the house, and after everything that's happened, that hasn't changed. Even as she builds on to her brick wall, even as she builds a fortress to live in behind it, she has a little secret door for him. It's only there sometimes, but it's there.

Stef and Lena exchange looks of surprise, not too fond of the idea. They'd love if the talk could happen now, but they still respect her, and know that her answers to their questions will get better with time. They know that from experience. So they agree.

But Callie is talking again before they can get a word in. She thinks they don't trust her. "I'm not going to run away again. I swear. I really have no where else to go this time."

They swear they can hear something snap in that quiet room, something inside Callie. Something is snapping and dying.

"Okay," Lena replies softly, "okay, we'll talk tomorrow."

Callie doesn't waste any more time standing around and heads up stairs, though she's mounting them a little too slow, a little unsure. What will she say to them if they're awake? What will Mariana think of her now? Just when they were becoming friends...and Jude. What will Jude say?

Acid is climbing up her throat.

They all watch her go, and when she's out of sight, Brandon says, "I think I'm going to try to get some sleep, too."

"Maybe you should shower first," Stef suggests, wrinkling up her nose, "you two smell like something died in the car. You better hope your father doesn't get mad."

That's his cue to leave. He can sense the change of atmosphere almost immediately, he can sense it in the way her voice is bordering on sarcastic, and he's not prepared for this talk yet. So he shrugs and starts heading up, too, and avoids looking down. Not out of a fear of heights, but of what lies below.

"Brandon," she stops him on the fifth step, her voice a little softer, the edge gone. "Thank you. For bringing Callie back."

He looks down, and Lena is holding on to Stef's arm, and they both look so confused, so lost, he has to look away again. He did this. They both did this. His moms deserve happiness, he wants to bring them only happiness, but they can't catch a break. And now part of that is his fault.

He just nods and continues up, and tries to stop himself from enjoying her gratitude, because the next day, there will be none. And he'd rather not have that taste of paradise if only for just a day.

* * *

"Good morning, Talya."

Stef steps aside for the redhead to enter, and as she does she says, "Good morning, sorry I'm here so early. When Brandon told me what was going on I was super worried, so when he texted me to tell me he was home, I really wanted to see him."

Stef shakes her head, waving off her apology with a bagel in hand and surprising amounts of enthusiasm for someone who got only four hours of sleep. "Of course, he'll be down in a minute. You know how it is waking up in the morning."

With a mutual laugh they part ways, and while Talya stays at the bottom of the stairs with a smile plastered on her face, Stef joins Lena in the kitchen again, where her smile instantly vanishes. They're talking so quietly even her trained ears can't pick up a word they're saying, but then someone's slumping down the stairs and her suspicion flies out the window, and her eagerness returns.

But it's Callie, not Brandon, and the smile is stripped away to that of a fake one. Callie only notices the girl when she's almost to the landing, and she instantly slows, her hand making audible friction on the hand rail. She can't make eye contact with the girl without wanting to run away again.

"Hi, Callie. It's good to see you home safe."

She is almost believable in her well wishes, but not quite, and Callie swings around the staircase, walking away without a word.

Talya doesn't have too much time to dwell on her anger because now Brandon's making his way downstairs, spotting her swifter than Callie. His reaction, however, is a little different. He stops in his spot completely, halfway down the stairs. "What are you doing here?"

He doesn't sound particularly annoyed, but she recoils. "I came to see you. I think we should talk about yester-"

"Yeah, I know." he cuts her off, closing off the large gap between them and coming to stand in front of her. "I'm sorry for the way I acted. I was just stressed out. I didn't mean to snap at you."

His sudden normality has her extremely relieved and she's already over it, flinging her arms over his shoulders. It catches him by surprise and he steps back a little, hoping she didn't catch his face in reaction. They don't need another argument. "Let's just forget about it. What are you doing today?"

He glances over his shoulder towards the kitchen. "I haven't even talked to my moms yet. I'm pretty sure I'm going to be grounded for a while." She doesn't seem fazed by this, just keeps beaming up at him, and he swallows something in his throat. This isn't right. Trying to go on like nothing happened between him and Callie, it just isn't fair to Talya. It isn't fair to anyone. "Look, Talya-"

"We both know that you being grounded means they'll let you off the hook after a couple days. I'm not worried about it."

He has to tell her. He has to just rip the band-aid off. "Yeah, but, Talya-"

"Ah," she unclasps her hands from behind his neck to retrieve her phone from her pocket, then rolls her eyes at the screen. "It's my mom. She wants me home. She's been on my case, too, lately. I'm not sure why. I'll text you, though."

She stretches her neck to kiss him quickly, and he's too stunned at the lack of control he has over the whole situation to stop it. The second she's out the door, his mom is calling his name from the kitchen. He's only been up for ten minutes and he's already ready for bed again.

When he enters, Callie's seated at the island across from his moms, who are nursing cups of coffee, looking completely wiped out. The first thing he wonders is why Callie's up so early, already facing his mothers. He'd think she'd try to lay in bed all day before they'd have to pry her out manually. She probably just wants to bite the bullet.

"Sit." Lena is the one who orders it, not Stef, and this catches him off guard, but after thinking it over a little he can understand it. Lena, being the one who has the most anxiety of the two, usually ends up channeling her anger through said anxiety. The more anxiety, the worse the aftermath. "We're going to work all of this out while the rest are still sleeping."

He sits down awkwardly next to Callie, who doesn't even acknowledge him. He can't tell if she's doing it on purpose or she's had no sleep and is turning into a sort of zombie. Either way, it kills him a little.

"We want to hear it all from Callie first." Stef explains, eyes set on the weary brunette, who's hiding slightly behind a canopy of hair, shoulders dangerously curved. "We love you, sweets, but we're prepared to sit here all day if you don't tell us what we need to know."

She tucks half her hair canopy behind one ear before rolling her shoulders back. The pop echoes through the kitchen, and is followed by the spring of a bagel in the toaster, making the young girl jump. While she's as alert as she'll ever be, she explains, "I, uh, ran away because I thought it was the best thing for Jude."

Brandon is the first one to try to deny this. "Callie-"

But she ignores him altogether, clarifying, "He saw me and Brandon kiss, and he, uh, knew it would ruin his chances of staying here permanently. So I left, knowing that you would adopt him anyway."

Nobody says anything about how selfish her unselfish gesture really was, but they're all thinking it. She's just like a stray dog now, though, and one wrong move, or if they try to approach too fast, she's gone. So Lena breaks her own fourth wall, her muscles relaxing slightly, and opts for, "We still want to adopt you, too."

She's so confused as to why they weren't more shocked after hearing about her and Brandon that she barely registers what she's just said. "What?"

"You leaving made us realize just how much you and Jude mean to us." Lena goes on, trying to avoid looking at Brandon and the frustration that is flashing over his eyes. "And we still want to adopt you."

Tears are brimming in her eyes now, threatening to spill over on to her cheeks and leave dirt trails to be traveled again, because she just can't seem to get off this damn hike in to hell. "I can't," her voice is fire, crackling in the lone woods, "I'm sorry, I just..."

Stef sees her eyes wander to Brandon and she quickly interjects. "You two know the rules about-"

"I know," Callie counters faster, because she can't hear her say the words, it might make her throw up. She finally gets it that one of the twins must've told them. Jude saw them first hand, but even despite the resentment he's probably still holding for her, he wouldn't tell anyone. Like he said, it would only hurt him, too. "And that's not what I meant...I just can't be a part of this family. But please, adopt Jude. I want you to. You won't be doing me any favors if you don't." The two women look like they're about to combust, not from disappointment with the two but from utter helplessness. It seems there's no right way around the situation.

Brandon is red in the face, feeling completely defeated but not wanting to give up just yet. He's about to go off when Callie adds quietly, "But if you would still have me, as your foster child," all movement stops, "I would be so grateful."

The last thing Brandon wants is for Callie to get booted off to another foster house, away from Jude and his new, adoptive, loving family. But he also doesn't know if either of them can keep living together, keep carrying on like they don't care about each other more intimately. He knows now that it was never going to work out; there is never going to be a time when everything falls into place between them. They will never win.

And he knows this is how she's been living for almost all her life.

So seeing as her proposition is the only semi-reasonable solution, he shuts his mouth.

"Callie, we couldn't-"

"Please," the fire in her trachea is growing larger, growing louder, and Lena's defined head of curls is suddenly just one big mass behind her glassy eyes, "please, this is the way I want it. If it's not too much to ask."

There's a floorboard creaking above them and they know their time is up. Stef and Lena look at each other once more, then at Brandon, who's nodding solemnly his approval, then back at Callie. Stef's voice cuts through the silence, and Callie shudders internally. "Of course, Callie."

She doesn't feel better than before, but she wasn't expecting to.

Both teenagers rise to leave, but Stef makes quick to ask Brandon if he could wake the rest up for breakfast, so then he's gone and it's just the three of them. Callie hovers near her bar stool, waiting for one of them to talk, and she's playing with the drawstrings of her sweatpants, still blinking back the remaining excess water in her bottom eyelids. "You like Brandon as more than a foster brother?"

She's taken aback by Stef's question, unsure of her motives. "Um..."

"I'm sorry, Callie," she apologizes swiftly, seeing how uncomfortable she's already made her, "it's just that I know you can get caught up in these feelings for someone when they're so nice to you, and make you feel good inside. It doesn't necessarily mean-"

Callie knows it's her attempt at trying to trick her into thinking she doesn't actually like Brandon, but she's too far gone for that, and she can't help but to feel slightly pissed, even knowing that they're only doing it out of love. They really do want to adopt her. But it can never happen. They know this has happened before, and that time it was different. That time it was most definitely not anything real. So she shuffles over to the door, avoiding eye contact until she's almost in the next room.

"Brandon's no Liam. I guess that's the problem."

* * *

When she stops at the top of the stairs, she's greeted by four sets of eyes, though one of those sets refuses to look into her own. They all look like they've been talking already, and Mariana is asking Brandon what time they got home at when Callie tries to get her little brother to look at her. He feels her staring into him but he keeps his eyes on Jesus.

"Hey, Callie." Mariana is the first to say it, hopelessly trying to break the awkwardness that has descended upon the five. She says it too casually and it's bordering on ridiculous, but Callie appreciates the effort, so she forces her stubborn cheeks to pull up the corners of her lips briefly.

But this serves only to heavy the atmosphere and Jesus blurts, "It's good to see you home."

She can tell that he really does mean it, unlike the other person that had the courage to flat-out lie to her face earlier. Her right eyes twitches with the warning of fresh tears, but they are not that of sadness.

However, when she lands on Jude and he's still not looking up, she wants to die. When she was just a shell, missing a bottom half and a nut inside, discarded by an animal, he was the one that made it feel okay to be missing that nut. To not have a bottom half. Because she was once whole and he helped her remember that, and look back on it fondly. But now it seems he wants nothing to do with her, and that's the end of her world. Now she's completely useless, and when another animal comes along with high hopes and hunger for something whole, they'll find absolutely nothing, and she'll be kicked aside in the dirt. She won't even be worth burying for safe-keeping.

"Jude?"

And somebody's lit that fire again in her body, except now it's moved from her lungs to her stomach, and she's prepared to empty whatever little contents it contains into the toilet a few feet away.

Brandon walks up behind the twins and urges them downstairs, muttering something about bagels from their favorite bakery, clearly trying to distract from the situation. But their interest is piqued now, and they can't help but glance back, even as their brother pushes them away.

"Jude, talk to me."

When he finally replies, his eyes cut a trail where they travel from the ground to her face, and it's less like talking and more like spitting. "You could've died. You could've left me like Mom and Dad left us. And you don't care."

She doesn't know who this boy is in front of her, and she doesn't know when and why he ever came to the conclusion that she stopped caring about him. Her whole life revolves around caring about him. There was no Callie after the accident, just Jude. She wishes he could see that. "That's not true, Jude, I never wanted to hurt you. I did it because I thought that-"

"I don't care what you think anymore."

She was prepared, to some extent, for this conversation, but definitely not for this. He's not just mad...he's disowning her. "Jude, wait,"

But he shuts the door in her face, and it's all over. That's all that Jude will be to her, a door with a couple of rotting stickers, and sometimes if she's lucky, a sideways glance at school or the dinner table. She doesn't know what to do or say anymore. Jude has to take the initiative now, and that's what scares her the most. She's not sure he will.

Her back slips down the length of it, and she feels the knots in her muscles as she does so, almost sticking as she goes. She leans against his door, pressing her palms into the plush carpet, feeling for the floor underneath, feeling for something solid. When Brandon is at the top of the stairs again, his eyes say he wants to help, but her eyes tell him to leave her alone. And he does.

* * *

Stef slaps the keys into his hands, not even bothering to hide the absolute disgust she has for him as she speaks, already turning to walk back into the house. "I hope you're sober enough to drive."

Mike visibly flinches, but puts on a brave face and follows after her. "I haven't had a drink in a while!"

"What's a while, Mike, a day?" She stops so abruptly he almost crashes into her, and has to take a few steps back so he won't breathe in her fire breath, so she won't scratch him with her claws. Baby hairs are springing up from her once neat pony tail, and the couple of cups of coffee she downed earlier only seem to heighten her emotions. "Just...go home."

"No." His own voice is starting to rise, sick of letting her talk down to him. He's not a child. "I want to see Brandon. He's my son, too, and I deserve a voice in the matter of his punishment!"

She pushes her full weight into the door, stomping inside. "Not today. Brandon's grounded."

The door slams in his face.

* * *

Mariana wakes at eleven, feeling uneasy. She checks the window, which is wide open to allow a nice cross-breeze, but that's never concerned her, being on the second story. Then she springs upright, eyes wide on Callie's bed, but she's in it, facing her, even. She's not asleep. "What?"

"Oh," she breathes, pushing out her fingers that were clenched around her quilt, "I just...something doesn't feel right."

Callie doesn't say anything else. Sounds like the story of her life, and she's not really in the mood to rehash it. Mariana turns on her side and snatches her phone off her side table, tapping the screen gingerly. She's not expecting any messages at this hour, but there's one when it lights up.

_I'm not coming home_

Four words. Four simple words, sent to her around ten, but she was already asleep. If only she had stayed up like her moms, who are still talking between themselves in the living room, then she could've texted back. She could've found out what exactly she meant, she could've tried to stop it. But she doubts Lexi still has her phone, if she even had it all in the first place. It could've been her mom who texted her. Her dad, even. There's no way to know.

"Oh my God," the words set in and she shoots out of bed, practically sprinting for her brother's room to see if he got the message. Callie is somewhat worried, but she doesn't budge. This isn't her family, and these aren't her affairs.

When she gets there, Jesus isn't in his bed, and she only wakes up Jude with her slapping feet. She doesn't even apologize before abandoning the room and heads towards her mother's, figuring he's probably not in Brandon's, since the usual, rhythmic piano is missing, deeming him asleep.

The bed has yet to be unmade but the closet door is wide open, and there are a few cardboard boxes that are sticking out past the mirror. She slides on to her knees and examines the mess, shoving blouses off the sides of the boxes and closing them up. This mess wasn't made by her mothers, and whoever it was must've been looking for something.

Then she sees it, a small black chest behind the boxes, with the lid halfway on it, a little green peeking through. She slides it out and lifts off the lid, revealing a stack of bills, and her heart stops. This is the emergency money, and a little under half of it is gone, along with a certain family member.

She springs back up and barges into Brandon's room, waking him immediately. "What the hell-"

"Jesus is gone!" This seems to make him lucid and he swings his legs out of his bed while she explains, "We both got a text from Lexi saying she's not coming home, she's not coming back from the Honduras! He took some of the emergency money and I think he's going to try to get there somehow! He's already gone!"

He's already peeling off his pajama shirt and throwing on a clean one, an obvious sense of déjà-vu washing over him. "How did he get past moms-"

"I don't know, but we have to tell them."

He steps into his closet to pull on his pants, then returns, shaking his head and tugging on his sneakers. "No, they'll kill him. They can't know. And they don't need more stress right now."

She's walking towards the door, about to go get changed herself. "Well I'm coming with you."

"No, you're not." He debunks, brushing past her, beating her to the door. "I'll find him on my own. He can't be far, he probably took his skateboard."

When they're back in the hallway, they stop talking, listening for the quiet chatter of their moms. They're still in the living room. It'll be tricky, but they're both experienced.

But not experienced enough for Callie's excellent hearing. She's standing in the doorway to Mariana's room, looking groggy, but clearly hasn't slept, because her hair is next to perfect and she's not wearing her pajamas. If it didn't feel so serious, she wouldn't have concerned herself in the matter, but he's fully-clothed close to midnight and that's not normal for him. "What's going on?"

He examines her own attire momentarily, raising a brow, but informs her of the situation. "Jesus left somewhere, something about Lexi. I'll be back soon. Don't let them find out, okay?"

"No," she says, walking back into the room, and they're both left standing there, looking both confused and anxious, but she returns shortly with her phone and her untied shoes. "I'm coming with you."

He looks down at Mariana, who's looking rather impatient as she waits for him to tell her no. But after brief contemplation, he agrees. "Alright." She's opening her mouth to complain but he brushes her off with cheap flattery. "Come on, Mariana, we all know you're the best liar."

She rolls her eyes but agrees anyway. "Fine. You've got a few minutes to get out the door and out of the driveway before they notice. I'll lead them away for you."

They watch her as she slumps down the stairs, pretending to be half-asleep. She moans something to Stef and Lena about having a nightmare, where they then proceed to usher her into the kitchen and baby her and make her tea. As they pad silently down the stairs, something eats away at Callie. Regret. If she had decided to stay home instead of Mariana, that could be her getting babied.

She shakes her head as they slip into the car. That could never be her.

As they roll out of the driveway, careful enough not to start the engine until they're on the street, Brandon asks, his voice gentle, barely above a whisper, "Why'd you want to come with? If we get caught-"

She turns her head towards him, catching his eye and effectively cutting him off mid-sentence. "Whatever's waiting when we get home, it'll be for both of us."

And they don't smile at each other, but there's a tiny twinkle of the beginning of one in both of their eyes, lightning before thunder. It's a start.

* * *

_Next week on The Fosters: _

_Brandon and Callie continue to search for Jesus_

_Talya reveals something that may ruin developments between Brandon and Callie _

_Mike proposes something to Stef that can't be refused_

_and more_

_All new, Monday, August 26th_


	4. Episode 14

**A/N: Okay, I'm definitely not even going to bother any of you guys to review, because you guys are so amazingly beautiful that you blew me away last chapter, and you will blow me away again. You guys keep me motivated! I got a lot of good feedback for last chapter and I hope you guys will continue to let me know what you like, don't like, what confuses you, etc. So I had one reviewer suggest doing little promos for the next episode, but the thing is, I don't even have the next episode fully completed, I never really do. And that's because I like to get ideas from you guys! So really, if there's anything you'd like to see, let me know, because I will most likely include it! You guys are brilliant. So, I kinda leave it off on a cliffhanger, and I'm sorry :( It's just the way it worked out. I like to keep you guys hungry for more! Please don't hate me! Also, I had another reviewer say something about a Brallie kiss, and I assure you, there will be some action in the very near future! I don't want to rush anything yet, I want to develop everything a little more. But I promise, with every chapter there is more Brallie. I won't skimp you guys, they're the main reason I watch the show, so you can trust me on that one. Last but not least, I've got a little game for you guys since I can't offer you the promo: find an example of assonance/alliteration in this story, drop it in a review, and if you're correct I'll send you a sneak peek of next episode! Fairly simple, I believe, since you've got the internet at your fingertips if you have no idea what assonance or alliteration is ;). Happy hunting and keep reviewing my lovelies! Thank you!**

* * *

**Episode 14**

"You got ready pretty fast."

He's faking obliviousness, something that is actually pretty believable when it comes to him, but she can still tell that he's digging around for something, that he's trying to get her to throw up all her secrets and feelings and thoughts as if she's some bulimic teenager girl that's just binged. As if she's always done it.

She doesn't have bulimia but she has something.

She only shrugs. She _did_ volunteer to come with, and it _was_ her way of saying that she wants to trust again (she wants to feel something, maybe not necessarily love, but she wants to feel something), but she doesn't see how he translated that to her wanting to shoot the breeze.

No, that isn't right, his question clearly has purpose. He's not asking about the weather, he's asking her if she was going to try to run away again. And the unspoken elaboration is not just going to slip out the open car window, it's not just going to rewind back into his mouth. "I thought about it." she admits, swallowing past swollen tonsils, "Running away again. I thought maybe I could run away to the one person that I have left to count on."

He flicks on his turn signal, pretending to be extremely engrossed in the city around him, pretending to look for a certain boy he knows is not on this street, while deep down, he's extremely concerned that all she's ever going to be now is a flight risk. But he can't let her see it, because although he knows she wants to see somebody cares, she may not be emotionally prepared to see how much he cares for her. "What made you change your mind?"

"Well," she props her elbow on the open car window, a casual gesture, but it's only for support for the bomb she's about to drop, "you can't run away from a place you're running to."

He's lucky she says this as they're at a stop light, because he wants to look at her, and when he does, her face is halfway out the window, though it's slightly flushed, even in the cool night air. He thinks maybe she means Lena or Stef, maybe even Mariana, but when she allows a quick peek at his reaction, she looks almost terrified that she's made such a confession. For anybody else, it's ordinary. For her, it's groundbreaking.

"We're heading to the airport," she points out, so out of her element that her voice wavers between a question and a statement, just desperately trying to get off the topic she shouldn't have even presented. But as soon as the light is green he's focused again, and she relaxes a little. "He's not going to be there. He's not even old enough to buy a plane ticket."

He's driving slower than the speed limit but there aren't many cars out now, though it's slightly more congested on the roads to the airport. He huffs through his nose, a laugh of sorts, and scans the dimly lit sidewalks. "This is Jesus we're talking about. I doubt he knows that."

She takes another peek at him, and he's so concentrated on the road, hunched forward a little in his seat, eyes squinted heavily, and she feels warmth in her body again, she feels it in her toes and her cheeks and everywhere in between. She looks down at her lap, embarrassed at her typical teenager girl reaction, something she hasn't had in a while, but he hasn't noticed a thing. "You know, Jesus knows more than you may give him credit for."

This time, he does laugh. "I don't think he's stupid, Callie, but sometimes the things he does are. I mean, he's skipping town for some girl he's barely known! I bet he doesn't even realize how his choices are going to affect his family, his sister, especially-" he stops talking when he finally catches a glimpse of her face, which is a little disbelieving and twisted up, and he finally processes what he's said, "shoot, Callie, wait, that's not what I meant-"

"It's fine." But it's not. "It's the truth. Jude hates me and I'm sure Mariana will if Jesus gets away. Which is part of the reason I came with."

"I'm sorry." He's not looking at her, thoroughly rueful, and he really does mean it. She doesn't accept it, just keeps a watchful eye on the streets for a skateboard rat, who hopefully will make his appearance soon, because things are getting heavier between the two. "I'll talk to Jude. If I tell him it was my fault-"

"Stop." she demands, but her voice breaks while saying it, making it almost impossible to want to follow. "You can't keep doing this. I'm not letting you take the blame for my mistake."

He's trying to figure out if she really just said that when the stop light bounces to red and she yells at him to brake, more anger than fear lacing her voice. He manages to stop in time and avoid the crosswalk, but neither of them are in the clear. "It wasn't a mistake."

She avoids his gaze, bringing her necklace into her mouth. It bites her tongue with its bitterness, effectively taking her mind off the strife for a moment. "Can we just...find Jesus?"

He eases on the gas, peeling his eyes off her to watch the road again. "I don't believe that you feel that way." She won't speak again. "You're right about one thing though, I don't think he's here. Let's check some side streets. You try his phone."

He doesn't sound happy anymore. He didn't really to begin with, given the circumstances, but now he's really not pleased. She grudgingly pulls out her phone to text him, only taking his orders on behalf of Jesus. It's easy for him to say it wasn't a mistake, it didn't ruin _his_ life, it ruined what little of hers she had left. But she can't find the energy to say this to him, or the will, because she knows he really is the sole person she can count on, and he means well, even if his intentions don't translate right.

"I hate this neighborhood." he mumbles absently, glancing at Callie as she texts away on her phone, and when she's done and she looks at him, she's waving her white flag. They both are. Neither says anything, but the small, sad smiles are enough.

She looks out her window once more as they roll through the spotted blackness, setting down her phone as she catches something further down the block. "Up there...is that him?" He pulls off to the side and when the headlights hit the unmoving form, it does turn out to be him, slumped over on his skateboard, his arms dangling over his bent knees. His head shoots up on contact, but he doesn't run.

Brandon grumbles as he shifts the car in park. "Of course he's in the worst neighborhood past midnight." He pulls at the handle and pushes open his own door, stopping only when Callie starts to do the same. "Wait, you should just stay here."

"Look," she begins, taking a quick look at Jesus to make sure he hasn't tried to flee. He hasn't. "If he doesn't want to come with us, how are you going to convince him? It's better if I just lay it out straight for him."

He's not keen on it, but he doesn't say anything when she starts getting out again. They shut their doors quietly and approach the teen, who's got his beanie almost in his eyes and a cargo pocket stuffed with unseen cash. He still doesn't move, but he starts talking when they stop in front of him. Brandon's standing a little bit behind Callie, glancing around the street, a stressful scowl making its way on his face, but Callie's full attention is on Jesus, trying to help him see that she understands with an empathetic smile. "I wasn't going to leave. At first I was going to find a way, but now I see there was no way I was going to get to her, or bring her back home, and if I did, she still wouldn't be safe."

Callie looks back at Brandon, trying to get him to see how upset his brother is, knowing he's probably about to explode right now, but he's not even looking at either of them. She turns back to Jesus. "Listen, Jesus, I know what you thought and I know what you're thinking, I do. But running away from or running to your problems doesn't actually fix them. Sometimes you just have to wait to face them." When he doesn't say anything, she adds a little as a consolation, "And I'm sure if she's with her family, she's safe. You don't have to worry about that."

"But I do. I do worry about her."

This sets Brandon off and he turns his head into the conversation. "Sitting there is not going to make you stop worrying about her, Jesus, you're always going to worry about her. It doesn't just go away." He sounds almost angry when he says this, and when he meets Callie's eyes, she gets that he's actually trying to make a point to her, not him. Her eyes find the ground. "Right now moms don't know we're gone, but if we hang around any longer they might. Get in the car."

Without a word he rises and hauls his board to the backseat, where he throws it and himself inside. Callie thinks about joining him in the back, too. She thought coming along might help her sort a few things out, but she's more confused than ever. She knows what she wants, she knows what she needs, so those aren't the questions.

The question is if she should let herself have it.

* * *

"Mariana?"

She would know that voice anywhere but she squints her eyes towards the door, the light from her phone screen accentuating her features and making her appear younger than the boy standing in her doorway. It could be all the shit he's been through, too, that sometimes makes him appear older than her, wiser. Sometimes he says things she would never think of saying, but he remains childish in one way: he can't understand a lot of things.

Which is why she has to stop herself from cussing in front of the young boy, though the damage is already done. "Jude," she whispers, shining her light his way for a moment, forced to watch as he comes to find Callie missing from her bed once again. "It's not what you're thinking, I promise. Callie's coming back, everybody's coming back,"

"Everybody?"

She waves him over into the room but he plants himself in place, clearly upset. His shirt is on backwards, she can tell because the tag is sticking out of the front of it and he still has no clue, and his too-short pajamas bottoms are off center and well-slept in, and he's so innocent and clueless and she can't help thinking that he doesn't deserve all of this pain, he's just a boy. He doesn't deserve any of it but neither does Callie, and when it comes to the two of them, they both can't be happy. It's their dynamic.

"Jesus left for a little while so Brandon and Callie went to go get him. They'll be home soon, though, Callie texted me and told me they found him. But moms can't know about this at all, okay?"

"Are you mad at him?"

Mariana raises a shaped brow, thrown off slightly by his question. "What?"

He finally shuts the door behind him and makes his way to her bed, and she scoots over to let him sit on the end of it, watching him carefully. She keeps the light on her phone on so they can see each other's faces, though she's not sure she wants to. She doesn't know how she will handle it if he starts crying. "Are you mad at Jesus?"

Just by the look on his face, she knows he's not really asking about her. "Well, I was at first, but now I'm just going to be happy when I see him." He's picking his fingernails, avoiding eye contact, and because she knows what she's said might've made him feel guilty, or like a bad brother, she tells him, "You shouldn't feel bad for the way you reacted. It's kind of like a default setting, being angry with someone when they leave you alone. Because it's selfish, right?"

He looks at her from under his lengthy eyelashes and she goes on. "But it's not always right. Sometimes people leave you because they think they're being selfish if they stay. You can't take back the way you reacted, but you can change the way you're going to react when you see her again."

He's shaking his head, obviously not convinced. "But what if she's mad at me now?"

She laughs, and for a second it pisses him off, but then she explains, "Jude, Callie could never be mad at you. She left so we would still adopt you. And we're still going to, Callie already sorted it out with them. She loves you, and you love her, and everything is going to work out, got it?"

He nods, that typical, humble Jude smile crawling out of hiding, and she pats him on the leg. Still, he has no idea that while they're going to adopt him, they may not be able to adopt his sister. She won't let him know that, not yet. "Now go get some sleep, you can see her in the morning. Just be careful not to wake up moms."

He complies and ambles back to his bed, leaving Mariana feeling a little bit lighter, knowing that she is capable of fixing things, not just breaking them. But she hopes everything _will _work out, because if she ends up being the one to break his little heart again, she might have to run, too.

* * *

"What in the world, Mike, it's seven in the morning-"

"It can't wait." he swears, and he's so dead serious, and it's so damn early, that Stef just has to let him in. She rolls her eyes as she shuts the door, then turns to find him in the living room, though he refuses to sit down. He's almost pacing as he talks to her. "It's about Brandon."

"I figured." She's using her condescending voice again, talking at him while he's trying to talk _to _her, and he just comes right out with it, sick of her attitude. "I want Brandon to move in with me."

It's so abrupt and strange that she has to cackle. "This is absolutely crazy, you came here this early for this? You should've just slept in, Mike."

"I'm serious!"

The humor leaves, annoyance left in its place, and she starts walking away to the empty kitchen, where their conversation will be muffled through the ceiling instead of traveling up the stairs. He storms after her. "This has happened before and he said no, Mike, so I think that's that."

"Well I think he should think about it again, _Stef,"_

She's about to sit down when she stops and just stares at him, taking in his unzipped hoodie, with its lopsided strings, and his disheveled hair and seriously-in-need-of-a-shave face. She could really laugh in his face right now, but it's clear he's not in the right state to take that kind of thing, and she can't risk it. So she sips her coffee, nodding at him and his poor hygiene. "You're really not in the right mind for taking care of a kid right now."

"How could you know? You never let me see him, and he's my _son." _He presses his palms into the island, leaning his weight in her direction, but there's a good deal of space between them, thankfully. "And he's not a kid. I can take care of him."

Her words tip out of her mouth and fall into her coffee mug, which seems to be attached to her lips. "Your job?"

"They're still on me a little but I'm not going to lose it, Stef. I can support him. Hell, I'm still paying for those piano lessons of his! He needs space, space that he can't get here, and I've wasted too much time already."

She shakes her head, finally separating the mug from her lips. "That doesn't matter. You're not fit, and you're still drinking every night. To be honest, I'm surprised you'd even ask at a time like this."

"This isn't your decision, it's Brandon's."

"I think we both know what his answer's going to be."

It echoes through her coffee mug, bounces off the walls and seems to come too fast and too harsh because now his left ear is ringing, and he's stepping away and turning his back to her, checking out the fridge pictures and pretending to be interested in all of them but he's really only interested in one, and it's the one of his son. He breathes out through chapped lips, slowly filling every corner of the room with his carbon dioxide, though it seems more poisonous. "I don't want it to be this way, but if you deny me this, I'm going to want to take it to court."

Her mug finds its way back to its liquid ring on the counter top, a few drops splashing out as she slams it. "You are out of your mind! We both agreed we were never going to put Brandon through something like that so why in the hell would it be okay now?"

"I have a right, Stef-"

"You are _way_ out of line-"

"It doesn't have to be this difficult, all I'm asking-"

"After all the shit you know I've been through, I can't believe-"

"I'm not out to get you, just listen-"

"Get out of my house, Mike!" She's standing again, so quickly that the bar stool falls out from under her, ringing out in the silent kitchen. It's almost overwhelming after all the yelling that's just gone on, and she's trying not to think about it, because she can already feel her face tighten, and her throat hurts as she stifles a gasp. "I can't do this now, I really can't. Come back when you're sane or sober, whichever comes first."

He falls back to the doorway. "This wasn't what I came here to do. I hope you'll think about what I've said."

When she says nothing more, he leaves, and when she goes to pick up her bar stool, she knocks over her coffee. The handle cracks and the hot liquid drips off the island and onto the floor, and while she's cleaning it up, she mops up a few angry tears in the process.

* * *

After Callie wakes, she lays in bed for a few minutes, just staring at the ceiling, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the sunlight that has snaked through the drawn blinds. And she's thinking, she's thinking about yesterday and the day before and the day before that, and she knows if there's ever a right time to make up her mind about things, it's now, when the adrenaline and crazy feelings and emotions are dormant once again.

Jude. Jude is her everything, he's her brother, and he's the last of her real family. She's always done whatever she could do to make him happy, but it came with a price, and now she's broke and broken and she knows her worth, and that's thanks to Brandon. If Jude is anything like the boy she spent so long teaching and raising, he won't hold her back from happiness anymore.

But while she can't just let Brandon slip away, she can't let Jude either. And it seems it ultimately comes down to the two. It comes down to who's always been there for her, and who's there for her now. Neither of those have a definite future, which makes the decision that much harder.

But then she's in the doorway, and Brandon's in his, and he looks so worn and harmless and completely incapable of hurting her, and she can already imagine herself marching right up to him, and brushing those overgrown curls out of his eyes, and letting him tell her it's going to be okay, like he always does, because maybe it will be when he says it. There's no way to know because she's never actually let herself take comfort in that, and maybe that's what has always changed the outcome.

"Morning." he says, but she'd rather skip the obvious small talk and cut to the chase, so she's standing in the center of all the rooms, and there's some kind of magnetic pull bringing him to join her. "What is it?"

She doesn't remember drinking an ocean but there's a school of fish swimming around in her stomach as she looks up at him, and there must be some rocks in her lungs. Breathe. It's the only thing she's thinking, but it's not helping her do it. "Brandon, I need-"

"Callie?"

The 'you' lodges in her throat when she twists her neck towards Jude, who's standing in his own doorway, looking like he just woke up himself. Fortunately, he doesn't seem to think anything weird of the situation. "Can I talk to you?"

She looks back at Brandon, who seems to be pretty intrigued now, but nods his head at her anyway. They'll just have to continue talking later. He slips out of sight and Jude take his place in the center of the room, playing with the hem of his shirt, which is still backwards. This would usually be Callie's cue to talk, but she doesn't know what to say and she doesn't know what this is about, so she stays silent, her fingernails digging into the skin on the back of her neck.

His lips smack as he pulls them apart, his mouth dry. "I'm sorry if I made it seem like I don't like you anymore, or that I don't want to talk to you anymore. You're my sister and I was just really scared and I still love you and I was mad, too. But now I'm not anymore." His eyes are pleading with her but she looks more sick than ever. "And you promised you weren't going to be selfish anymore, so I know you won't. Could we just maybe pretend none of it happened?"

Then she breathes, and it's to release all the toxins in her body, but it ends up releasing a lot of the good things, too. "Yeah, baby," she finally says, pulling him into her sweater-clad torso, tightening her arms around him for the first time in a while, and she swears she can feel him smiling against her. And then she's done, that's it. She's got some happiness but it comes at the cost of another. There is no talk with Brandon later. "Yeah, let's just forget it all happened."

* * *

"You're an idiot."

Jesus stops making his bed for a second, sees its his sister, then shrugs and continues. She steps out of the doorway and picks up one of his throw pillows off the floor, smacks him with it on the back, then deposits it on the end of his bed. "I'm serious. What were you trying to do?"

"Sorry." He doesn't sound sorry. He finishes pulling his duvet up and hops off his bed, then digs through his closet for an outfit, trying to keep busy. "I made a promise to her that I'd take care of her and now I've let her down."

Mariana's arms fold over her chest, not because she's self-conscious, but because she finds the whole thing ridiculous, as per usual. He's gone over all of his shirts about three times already and still hasn't found anything, so clearly he isn't actually looking. "You couldn't have stopped it, nobody could've. It's out of our control, Jesus. And she was my best friend before she was your girlfriend, so if I can accept it, so can you."

He finally yanks out a black tee and turns to her, gripping the hanger a little too hard. "It's not that easy, Mariana, it's not always science and math problems and easy answers. I'm not going to stop thinking about it until she's home."

"She's not coming home, Jesus, she can't."

"There has to be a way!"

"There _isn't._"

He discards his shirt a little roughly and pulls on the fresh one before grabbing his skateboard off the wall and zipping out the door, with Mariana in hot pursuit. "Where are you going?"

He's curt as he descends the stairs. "To hang out with some friends."

Mariana's mouth is ready to flap again but Lena's in the living room, speaking before she can. "Where are you going?" she asks him again as he reaches for the door knob, and suddenly he's happy Jesus, nothing-going-on-here Jesus.

"Oh, just to hang out with some friends. Just for a little while, if that's okay."

"Sure," she chirps, patting him on the shoulder as she waltzes by, magazine in hand. "Just be home soon, I was thinking we could have a family day since you guys go back to school tomorrow."

Mariana beams at her as she rounds the corner, then grabs her brother's arm when she's out of sight, holding him back. "Did you even eat breakfast yet? Did you take your medication?"

He shakes her off, tired of her nagging. She's worse than their moms sometimes. "I don't need it."

The door frame vibrates when he closes it after him, unaware that he almost takes off her fingers as he does so.

* * *

Brandon's in the middle of watching Callie and Jude talk and joke around again as they eat their bowls of cereal at the island, genuinely happy at the sight, though he's got the feeling that this can't exactly be good for him and the foster girl. He'd been hoping they would make up sometime soon, because he knows how much Jude means to her, but Jude isn't exactly fond of him after what happened, and a repeat incident may push him away again, and that's not what he wants.

He knows what he wants and it's to be with Callie, in a world where Jude and his mothers would accept that fact. But they've already made it clear that they won't allow it. It's not just their rule, it's the whole system's, though it doesn't make much sense to him. But if anyone were to accept and allow what is pegged "forbidden", it'd be his mothers. There has to be a way around it.

She's pouring Jude another glass of orange juice, and he's telling her about the time some kid in his class pulled a prank on his teacher, and she's laughing and she's showing it with her teeth but not with her eyes, because those eyes are on him and she knows he's watching and listening and it kills her more.

He wonders what she was going to say, and he's thinking about how great it would be to finish that talk now while his mothers are getting ready in their bedroom and Jude is placing his bowl in the sink and heading up to his own, but he gets a text.

_I need to talk to u._

He supposes they do, but he can't let Talya put him in a mood right now, so he sends back that it'll have to be over text, he's busy. It's not exactly a lie, because he's getting off the window seat and walking over to Callie, who's doing the dishes in the sink, and he's prepared to finish that conversation.

She's got her back to him but she can sense him behind her now, and she unconsciously scrubs a plate a little harder with the sponge, though he doesn't pick up on the tension. "So, what were you going to say to me earlier?"

Her hands are so sudsy that she loses sight of them under the bubbles and accidentally scrubs her own finger a little too harshly with the sponge, then bites her lip to stop from making a sound. When she doesn't answer him, he leans his side on the sink next to her, finally catching her face. "What's wrong?"

She's saved by his phone, thankfully, and he hits the talk button and presses it to his ear, though he stays by her side. "Hey, what's going on? I told you to text me."

Callie can't catch what Talya's saying, but Brandon can barely do that himself, for her words are so slurred and broken by her hysterical sobbing. She's going on about why her mother always wants her home early, why she doesn't seem like herself, why her dad has been coming home from work early, and he's shooting Callie an exasperated look while she shuts off the water and sets down her sponge. The unusual graveness in her voice is enough to make Callie forget she shouldn't be looking at Brandon, much less standing so close to him.

When she stops talking nonsense and stops hiccuping, she says, loud enough for Callie to hear this time, "Brandon." The kitchen grows eerily quiet. "My dad has cancer."

* * *

_Next week on The Fosters:_

_The kids return to school_

_Stef tells Lena about Mike_

_Brandon must decide what the right thing to do with Talya is_

_and more_

_All new, Monday, September 2nd _


	5. Episode 15

**A/N: Oh geez, I hate to say it but this chapter is a bit of a shorty. It's longer than the first chapter but shorter than the last three I've posted. I'm sorry! It's been so crazy this week, I've had to work almost every day, I've had two birthdays to celebrate, and I start school next week (still haven'****t done the summer reading assignment). To make up for it though, there's a special Brallie scene! I promise next weeks will be a long one again. Keep giving me ideas guys! Oh, and please keep reviewing, yeah? And if you haven't yet reviewed, could you would you (should you? yes. (: ) The more reviews I get the more motivated I am to write. I guess that's why I was so lazy this week. Only 10 :( But thank you to everyone that did! And I promise to that anon reviewer that this will not be a cancer deathfic. My grandma also passed away from it and it's time cancer gets an ass-whoopin'. It would be so cool if y'all could get me to 100 reviews! (too crazy?) I don't know, I dream big. Lol. The story will be here no matter what though, but it would be so amazing if you guys did. Lastly, I made up my own little story line and made it so that the moms had a wedding on a short little school break. Like a three day weekend for a holiday or whatever. That's why the kids are going back to school. Hope I cleared that up. Onto the story, enjoy! See ya next Monday.**

* * *

**Episode 15**

"Callie, we'd really like you to rethink your decision-"

"Yes."

Two pairs of mom eyes meet, equally disbelieving and pleasantly surprised that it's not going to take any more convincing. Lena is ready to laugh, ready for that same kind of happiness Callie and Jude allowed them on the morning of their wedding when they said yes the first time, and reaches across the island to grab the young girl's hand, which is loosely folded in on itself.

"Now, you can take all the time you need," Lena assures, tone slightly hesitant. She doesn't want Callie to rush this decision again, and she knows Brandon can't already be so easy to dismiss for her. But Callie musters up all the love she can give right now and squeezes her hand back.

"I don't need it. I know what I want now." She nods, because she feels her eyes may make her seem unsure of herself, but she's very sure now that this is a once in a lifetime opportunity knocking and it's not going to be around for long. She's not going to let one person get in the way. One person that's got his own problems now. "I was stupid," she admits, and the second she does Stef reaches out her own hand and grabs Callie's free one, and they're in some kind of triangle now, impermeable and imperfect but perfect for Callie. "And I'm sorry, I know I caused you a lot of unnecessary pain but that's what helped me make my decision. To know that...to know that you really do care about me and Jude."

Stef bobs her head but Lena mumbles in agreement, "we do. We really do."

Callie's hands are clammy in theirs but if anything they're holding on tighter, and she's tired of fighting again, she's tired of fighting everything that her body is screaming at her to feel, so she lets those feelings form matter and slip down her cheeks and onto the solid tabletop. "And if you still want to adopt me, I...I want you to."

"Yes, Callie," Stef says, and it's like music, it's like sweet music to her ears and it's a symphony and it's a song written just for her and she's in their arms and they're hugging and nothing could be more perfect yet broken at the same time. But she's sandwiched between them again and this time it's less bittersweet because there really is no 'but' or 'wait' or 'maybe' left when it comes to Brandon. It's a single flavor of oatmeal and it's steel cut. "Yes!"

And they're all giggling but it's that sniffling kind because everybody's so done with this roller coaster, they just want to see the pictures of the crazy ride, because that's when you can really finally breathe.

"School," Callie croaks from somewhere inside their suffocating hug and they laugh as they loosen their arms and let her free, not a frown in sight. Lena pats her bottom and sends her off towards the door, agreeing, "That's right, you don't want to be late, or the vice principal may have to get after you." Callie flashes a smile before disappearing around the staircase, and Stef has to roll her eyes.

"You'll never let any of them forget that, will you?"

She's smug. "Probably not."

The cop is already policing the counters and starting up the sink for the dishes, her shoulders already tense despite the previous lovefest. It makes sense, keeping in mind her job, but Lena knows better. There's something else at play, so she plants herself behind her wife, wrapping her arms around her stomach and resting her chin on her shoulder. "Alright, spill the beans."

Stef raises both eyebrows, feigning cluelessness. "I think Jesus has already got that one covered. Did you ever get that stain out of the table from last night?"

Lena allows the quick change of subject, but only this once. "Yeah, I did. Did Jesus take his medicine yesterday? That spillage seemed easily preventable."

"I don't know. I'll hound him about it when he comes down. Are those kids getting ready?"

Lena unwraps herself to lean on the counter next to her, narrowing her eyes on the obviously conflicted woman scraping at the cereal bowls with the soft side of the sponge. "Whatever's bothering you, you've got to tell me. You're not going to feel any better holding it in."

She shuts off the faucet and proceeds to rub the bowls dry, meeting Lena's concerned eyes. "It's their first day back and I'm sure you've got a lot to do and a lot to think about and I can't burden you with my prob-"

"Oh, don't give me that," Lena warns, but she's not very serious, she's actually quite soft, "your problems _are_ my problems."

"Alright," she drags out, setting down the last bowl to come face to face with her. "But I gave you the disclaimer. Mike wants to ask Brandon to move in with him...again. And if I don't let him, he wants to get the court involved."

Lena's eyes are practically out of their sockets, but there's almost a little humor in her voice. "What? That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard. Why would he even mention court? Of course you're going to let him-"

"I'm not going to let him ask Brandon, Lena," Stef interjects, confused as to why Lena would think so, "He's not fit to be a father right now, nor has he ever really been. I'm afraid he may be a danger to Brandon-"

"Brandon's a smart kid, Stef," Lena scoffs, handing her the coffee cup in her hands so she can empty its cold contents into the sink, but she continues to talk while her back is to her, "He knows when to drive his intoxicated father home and he knows how to handle similar situations."

"See, the fact that 'intoxicated' and 'father' came up in the same sentence-"

"He's not going to say yes, anyway," Lena cuts her off with a shake of her curly up-do, "He said no the first time and nothing's changed. Besides, I think he's got a few people to hang back for."

That's when Stef turns around again, groans, and runs a hand across her face, pulling at her features in fatigue. "I almost forgot about those two. Maybe Callie's over it but if he's not, this news is not going to go over well with him. Ah," she steps away from the sink to retrieve a water bottle from the fridge, and as she twists it open, she says, "I'm not even worried about Mike anymore. I'm worried about this. How is this-"

"Hey," Lena interrupts once more and marches over to her spouse, placing both slim hands on the side of her face, "not now. You don't have to worry about that now. Get some rest today so you can get back to work soon and kick some ass. That is all."

She plants a quick kiss on her lips, and when she pulls back, her expression is firm, so all Stef can say is, "Fine." With a clap of her hands, she marches up to her bedroom to follow orders, leaving Lena will a victorious smile.

* * *

"Yo, Jesus,"

Jesus leans back out of his locker to nod in greeting at the fellow beanie-doning pal that sits behind him in math. He's not too fond of him, since he's never prepared for class and is always asking to copy his homework, but right now he's not in the mood to talk to Mariana and he's girlfriend-less so he'll accept the odd company. "What's up, man?"

"People are talking," he says pretty vaguely, so Jesus looks around pointedly, taking in the noisy, crowded hallways filled with sweaty teenage bodies and the occasional pissed-off teacher and agrees, "they _are_ talking, aren't they?"

He looks almost annoyed that Jesus didn't automatically understand what he meant, and clarifies, "Nah, I mean, people are talking about you. And your family. This is a small school, word travels fast."

Jesus closes his locker and brushes past him, clearly uninterested. "This is a _huge_ school, and people are stupid."

He's almost jogging to keep up with him, seeing as he is drastically shorter than the hispanic boy and he keeps weaving in and out of the crowds. "You mean you don't want to know what they're saying?"

"Not really, but it seems like_ you_ really want me to know." He swings his backpack further up his shoulder and nearly hits a gaggle of girls who are leaning against some lockers, clearly talking about him because they watch him as he goes by. He wishes he did hit them. "What, then? What are they saying?"

They stop by a trash can at the end of a hallway, and the idiot from math class spits his gum in it before telling him, "Well, Kelsey's been telling everyone that your new foster sister ran away over the weekend and there was a huge manhunt to get her back."

"It wasn't a huge manhunt."

"What wasn't?"

Jesus flips to see his sister behind him, purse casually on her arm though her eyes tell him that she's guilty of something. "You told Kelsey about Callie?"

"Well, yeah, but," she pauses to eye the moron who's starting to look pretty entertained now, then looks back at her brother, "she didn't tell anyone, did she?"

Jesus motions over at the kid with his eyes, folds his arms over his chest, and deadpans, "What do you think?" Mariana's body rolls with frustration and Jesus goes on, "Really, Mariana, you really thought she wouldn't tell anyone?"

A couple more skater boys have joined the group now, and the main moron is explaining what's going on when Callie just happens to walk by and notice the strange circle. She swoops in just as Jesus is about to go off on Mariana, and asks, "What's going on here?"

But Jesus and Mariana aren't the ones who answer. "We're talking about you and how you ran away." one of the idiots, who she barely remembers being named Travis, blurts. Her heart sinks at the words, and her eyes wander over to the twins, who look equally guilty, though only one is at fault.

"Um," she starts, but she doesn't know what to say, because she _did_ run away, and so far they're not making up anything, so she really has nothing to defend. Jesus tries to come to her rescue but one of the other skaters adds, "Yeah, and how you totally abandoned your brother."

Callie wonders if this is even real, if this is even happening. This is not something that happens in real life, this is something that happens in books and movies. People aren't this ballsy. People aren't this flat-out rude. She's still asleep, she's still in bed, it's not time for school yet.

"Hey, hop off, dude," Jesus snaps, stepping forward in front of the two girls, and he's unable to see Mariana reach out and touch Callie's arm, to which she doesn't respond. She doesn't know why she's still hanging around but it would be too obvious if she just walked away, and she's not prepared for the walk of shame. Maybe Jesus will tell them off.

And though he begins too, Brandon also happens to be taking this hallway, because in the next moment he's in front of them all, allowing himself a quick glance at a very disheartened Callie before taking over for Jesus, who, after much insistence that he's "got this", informs him of what's being said.

But Callie doesn't know if she can listen to him defend her, so she finally bails out, slipping out of Mariana's grasp and dashing through the hallway to the lunch area outside. Nobody stops to stare, but it feels like the whole world is watching her.

* * *

"Hey, Callie!"

All she wants now is to be alone, but it's just Jude, trekking across the grass to come join her where she's sitting under a tree. She puts on the cheesiest smile she can and chirps, "Hey, what's going on?"

"I came to ask you that," he smiles but he does not laugh, able to see through her ruse. He's not dumb and they're blood. "Why are you sitting alone?"

She picks up a fallen leaf, crisp and brown, and crumbles it in her hand, letting the remnant litter her notebook, which is barely hanging to its spiral. "Why were you walking alone?" she counters, but she's still grinning, and Jude's own doesn't falter, so he appears to drop it, especially when she points out Connor across the lunch tables. "Why don't you go say hi to Connor?"

He's ready to object, clearly feeling obligated to sit with her, but she jokes, "who wants to hang with their sister anyway? You see me enough at home." and he stands with his usual childish optimism and bounces off.

She's settling back into that easy silence when leaves crunch under foot and Brandon is approaching her, and she's scrambling to pick up her belongings and get out of here, go anywhere but here. "Wait!" he pleads, but she's storming off, stomping across the parkway, teetering towards the beach and away from school that she'll have to head back inside to in a few minutes. He stays hot on her trail.

"Don't listen to those idiots!" he's calling after her, swinging under the handrail to catch up with her, and it's reminiscent of the first time he tried to stop her from running off, except he didn't love her then, not yet. "None of that stuff is true, they even said something stupid about my moms getting married and you know that's not true so if you know that, then...Callie," he sees the uneven pavement coming up but she's unaware of it in her escape mission, so of course her foot snags on it and her body hurls forward, and he's finally close enough now to grab her arm, though she stops herself from falling on her own. "Just, wait,"

But when she tries to keep moving and he doesn't let go, she throws a fit of sorts, shaking her body wildly to free herself. This, of course, only makes him try harder. "Let me go!"

"What is going on?" he demands, pulling her in, and her feet stick to the pavement, she's so stubborn. "I'm just trying to help!"

It's a humid day, and the sun is beating down on both of them, and Callie's pretty sure her hair is hotter now than the temperature outside, so she's used up all her energy and he can finally manage to flip her around so that she's facing him and get a better grip on her, though she stills resists. And because she does, he can only grasp one arm firmly, and the other is snaked around her back, and her shirt has ridden up in the commotion so he's touching her bare skin, which is slightly sweaty, though from the weather or the tirade he's unsure. And she sobs.

"Callie," he begins, already feeling her trying to slip out of his arms, so he bends his knees to push her back up, "You're a great sister, none of that is true and you know it."

But that's not why she's crying. "Why are you doing this?"

"What?"

She gets one last burst of energy and struggles anew, but he stays firm with his grasp and she goes nowhere. She gives one strangled, frustrated scream and yells at him through her tears. "You're only making it harder! You're going to be my _brother!_ You can't do this!"

"Wait, what?" he repeats, aware that he's moved his face a little into hers, so he glances around to make sure they're thoroughly hidden by the foliage. "I thought that you-"

"Stop being selfish," she spits a little, she's almost foaming with anger, and leans as far back as she can, "We can never be together and I want to be happy."

"Stop making it sound so simple," he backfires, so stunned at the new info all he can manage is anger, "and stop pretending like this is how you feel because I know it isn't."

She shakes her head furiously, flinging tears off the corners of her eyes. "You don't know anything."

He presses his lips to hers, and they burn and they mark her and she pushes her full weight into the ground, trying to fall out of his arms but he won't let her, and the heat and the fervor of his lips have drained her and so she gives up, she fails, and she lets herself go limp and lets him hold her up, and he still tastes like syrup and she didn't eat breakfast so it really wasn't her decision to kiss him back, no, it was her body and it's desire to function.

Her lips are two metal bars, hard at first, but they grow hot in the heat of both their chemistry and the humidity and they soften and melt against his, but they never part, she never tries for air because she knows even when they're not attached anywhere, air is not something that comes easy.

It doesn't last long, because the risk of being seen is still very real, and so he pulls away to examine her face and she's visibly conflicted, because her body knows she needs him but at the same time she's in pain, and it's flashing across her face. Her hands are wrapped loosely around his arms, weak, and she whispers, "You must hate me."

"Ditto, Callie."

This pisses her off again, and she shakes out of her daze. "Yeah, what about Talya? I don't see you breaking up with her anytime soon, which I can understand because she really needs you right now, so how were you going to come about that?" She's finally able to toss his arms off her and she fixes her shirt. "This is the way it has to be."

The bell rings and she's already trudging back up towards the school, and Brandon waits behind a minute so that he can give her some space. Maybe he's wrong about some things right now, and he's not going to abandon Talya at a time like this, but he's not going to abandon what he has with Callie, either. This is not the way it has to be. Not if he can help it.

* * *

"I'm sorry."

They have been walking in their own personal silence for the past three minutes, though the hallways remain noisy. Jesus arches an eyebrow at his sister, who's looking pretty remorseful right now, but he waves her off. "You didn't do anything. You just have horrible friends."

"Yeah, I should've known about Kelsey." she admits, head hanging a little, "but if it were Lexi she wouldn't have told a soul. I'm sorry if I wasn't more supportive, Jesus. I just don't want to lose anymore people. Please forgive me?"

They stop in front of his math class and he hikes his board up a little in his arms, shaking his head at her. "No, you were being realistic. You don't have to apologize, Mariana. You're not going to lose me."

Her brilliant smile rises out of hiding, so relieved she could squeal. "Hug it out?"

He winces, jokingly. "In public?"

"Shut up," she demands, and he lets her wrap her arms around him briefly, which he reciprocates. But not for long, because he's still a teenage boy and he's not about to let those idiots take another jab at them. This is their class, too, after all.

Though he might like another opportunity to kick their asses. Nobody insults his family and gets away with it.

* * *

_Next week on The Fosters:_

_Mike returns with his demands_

_Talya leans on Brandon for support_

_while he stays persistent with Callie_

_and more_

_All new, Monday, September 9th_


	6. Episode 16

**A/N: A lot of great reviews this week! It seems my vocabulary solely consists of 'thank you' and the words 'awesome' 'amazing' and 'you rock'. But it's all good because these are my favorite words and I'm not going to stop saying them because it appears you guys aren't going to stop being them! You guys have some great ideas and I'm going to use a few so when they appear in a chapter, I'll make sure to give you credit! Also, let me know if any parts of this story bore you so that I can change it up, maybe make it more exciting. Just overall let me know about everything! If you guys don't review I won't know what you liked and didn't like and then I'll have nothing to write for because I'm writing for you guys! And myself, of course. So Mike may seem a little OOC in this chapter but that's because I'm totally recreating him, making him do something that has never happened and might not be planned to happen on the show. So I hope this is as realistic as possible, I wanted to give you guys a crazy-ish chapter to make up for the short one I posted last week! Keep reviewing please :) They make my world go 'round. Enjoy!**

* * *

**Episode 16**

"Hey, you doing the work?"

With a roll of his eyes, Jesus pushes himself up out of his bad posture to turn and face Travis behind him, who's undoubtedly asking to copy his work, as usual. The nerve of some people, especially after everything that he said earlier. He and Brandon didn't exactly go easy on him, but Jesus still feels like he could say more. Like he could do more. So when he replies, it's through his teeth. "No, I'm not. And if I was, I wouldn't let you see it because you're a dumbass with or without it."

"Whoa," his hands fly up, dropping the pencil he obviously wasn't planning on using, and feigns innocence. "What's got your panties in a bunch?"

He turns back around, clutching his own pencil a little bit harder. The things he could say right now...

"It's what I said about your foster sister, isn't it?"

Jesus bites his tongue. He hasn't taken his medication in a few days now, he's sick of feeling like he depends on it. Like it holds him back. Right now, he can't really depend on anything or anyone and he just wants to feel free. He wants to be normal. But sitting in front of this jerk, trying to refrain from punching him straight in the face, is next to impossible. He should've taken it today.

Just when the wave of desire breaks, and he thinks he's in the clear, Travis has to add, "Well, if it is, you shouldn't even worry about it. Your real sister is the problem, people are saying she helped your mom get shot."

There's the screeching of a single desk across the tile, paper flutterings and pencils clattering and the rustle of a windbreaker in fists and the thud of a body on the ground, tense trying to break a fall, and the heaving of a hovering Jesus, and a chorus of teenagers almost drowns out the shoutings of a very angry math teacher. But even in Jesus' blind fury, he can make out, "Jesus Foster, go see your mother _now!"_

And he knows the teacher purposely said that to make him feel guilty or embarrassed or something, but he takes one last look at the cowering kid on the floor before exiting and he has absolutely no regrets. "That was for just being an asshole in general."

"_Out!"_

* * *

He wakes up to go to the bathroom but he never actually goes.

Brandon knocked out somewhere around ten. He'd thought he'd still be tossing and turning right about now, the usual case of insomnia plaguing him. His mind is an amazing thing sometimes, with exceeding intelligence and unlimited imagination. It helps to have a brain like his, and it would continue to help him throughout his life, help him prosper. But sometimes it's a curse. He'll pick out things other people don't notice, things that stick with him, haunt him. He'll roll over the days events ceaselessly, wondering how things would've changed if he'd done something different. Wondering the pointless because there are no time machines, at least not yet.

And some people think that intelligence makes you wise, makes you accept the evil things in life more easily. But it doesn't. It intensifies them. Evil feeds intelligence, and vice versa. Ignorance really is bliss.

So tonight should be no different, with everything that's going on with Talya, Jesus' fight at school, and Callie. He hasn't talked to Callie since their kiss before school, and he barely got a good look at Jesus before their moms sent him up to his room. He's seen enough of Talya. She didn't go to school but she came by after, and he does feel bad, he really does. He wants to help her, he wants to be there for her, but he can't in the way she still wants him to. He's not going to end it because that's not him, that's not who he is. The real problem is self-control. Self-control concerning Callie.

He guesses he's just finally realized the only real escape from reality is sleep. You can't fear nightmares when you're living one.

His feet are hot so the carpet feels cool underneath, but it doesn't last long as he lingers where he steps. He's tentative to continue to the bathroom, he can hear talking in the kitchen still and it's eleven thirty. His moms were in bed before he was.

But he can hear that its them, he hears both of their voices. He can't pick out what they're saying, but he hears them. He's curious, as always, as to what they talk about late night, but it's none of his business, and he's about to head for the bathroom when he hears it.

The low rumble of a man's voice.

He's on the stairs before he can think about it, almost jogging, though he's careful to stay soundless. All the lights are off downstairs and the blinds are closed, not even the moonlight offers him direction, so it's good Callie could hear him descending or he would've plowed her down. She puts her hand out and presses it into his stomach, stopping him in his tracks. She'd been down there for a while, clinging to and hiding behind the large column that introduces the staircase, and he knows if anyone's got the fully story, it's her. She hardly sleeps.

It almost hurts to whisper so quietly. "What's going on? Who are they talking to?" He says this as he peers over the top of the handrail, so he's already seen his father in the kitchen, he doesn't need her answer. He's clearly drunk, unsteady on his feet, leaning awkwardly on the counter behind him, and his hair is matted to his sweaty forehead.

But Callie won't get out of his way when he tries to side step around her. "Brandon, wait," she pleads, because she knows that Brandon can see he's drunk, and she knows this has been going on for a while, so this might be the last straw for him. She was there once, she _knows. _She knows what he's feeling and she knows what he wants to say and do right now. That's what scares her the most.

But in the darkness it's easy for him to slip past her and he's already stomping to the kitchen, and it's not very loud but it's the middle of the night and it's enough to capture the attention instantly of the unhappy-looking trio inside. Callie doesn't know what she should do, so she hovers around that column, her sort of security blanket.

"B," Stef stays first, and something falls off her face, some nasty, unknown expression, "it's late, why don't you head back to bed?" She glances at Lena, who already gets the message and walks over to the teen with raised arms, trying to get him to come with her. But Mike speaks, and Brandon shoos her away, aggravation written across his face.

"Brandon, I haven't seen you-"

"Brandon can't talk now, Mike, he has school tomorrow." Stef is quick to cut in, nodding at Lena again. "Get some sleep and we'll talk in the morning, and you can call your father later."

"Move in with me, Brandon."

Brandon slides out from behind Lena, who's blocking his view of his father, still trying to get him to leave. He holds nothing back when he speaks, because he sees how messed up his father is and it's as bad as its ever been. He doesn't try to hide the absolute absurdity. "What?"

"Move in with me _I need you."_

"That's _enough, _Mike." Stef commands, releasing the nothings-going-on-here attitude she used so often when Brandon was a kid. It doesn't matter, though, it doesn't work anymore. He knows when something's not right.

And apparently so does Callie, because suddenly she's right up next to him, and her fingers are slipping through his, cold and clammy and she's urging him to just listen to his mom, just with that hand alone and those huge, brown eyes. He looks down at her, and for a moment he considers it, but he's so tired of running in circles, he has to say something. He has to stay. He has to see where this leads, what happens.

"Just leave, Mike," Stef sighs, and she sounds so emotionally exhausted, and Lena's next to her again, seeing as Callie's taken over her job, still desperately trying to pull Brandon out of the room, but he digs his feet into the floor. "Now's not the time. You're drunk, again."

_Again? _"What the hell is going on?"

"Brandon!" Lena almost gasps, but she's ignored when Mike pushes off the counter and tries to stand upright, though he has to do a little two-step to stop from falling over.

"I want you to th-hink about moving in with me again," he slurs, running his palm over his hair, flattening it further to his head. He stumbles towards them a little, seriously trying to appear sober, but it's almost comical. "What do you say, huh?"

"No," he says, and he says it as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. Because it is. And it's a slap to his face, hard bone and hot hand slap. He reels back a little as if he actually were. "No, I don't want to move in with you, and you need to leave, now."

There's a little squeeze on his hand, Callie reminding him that she's still there and they should still leave. But he's not going to leave until he sees his father out, away from his moms. He's never known his father to be destructive, and he can't picture him ever wanting to hurt anyone, but he's different when he's drunk. He's not him.

"There's your answer, Mike," Stef starts to say, but Mike comes back up in front of Brandon, babbling, "But why not? Why do you always say no to me? I'm your actual father and you never want to see me and you always want to see Lena and she's just another _dyke_!"

The silence, now, is that kind when you pass that point of things that do happen in life, and things that just can't be happening. When your body sends your mind into some kind of strange dream state, and you think of all the crazy movies you've seen, and you think how it makes sense that it happened in those movies, but not in this life. Not in reality.

Callie can hear Stef chant "Oh my God," and Lena falls back, too fearful to defend herself, and Callie can understand that fear, but right now its not for herself but for Brandon, who looks like he could actually fight his father right now. So, if possible, she squeezes his hand harder, feeling for that tug of his arm muscles, that tug that tells her he's going to lunge.

"Get the hell out of my house before I call the police!" Stef screams, forgetting she's got three more kids sleeping upstairs, though Mariana and Jesus could've slept through the civil war. Which is fitting, since this is essentially one. "Now!"

Callie's still holding tight but Brandon doesn't go anywhere. Instead, he says, "I can't believe you just said that. I can't believe you. This is not...you're not my dad."

Any other time this would send him away, this would break his heart and hurt his feelings and he'd leave so that he could feel sorry for himself alone. But this is different. He's dangerously drunk, and now furious. So he picks up the still-full glass of water Stef and Lena insisted he drink when he arrived completely wasted and hurls it at the floor, sending shattered glass in every direction.

Stef and Lena jump back into the joining room to the kitchen, they know this isn't stable ground anymore. Callie knows this sound to well, the crashing and shattering of not only china but her whole world, so perhaps this makes her jump more, but she doesn't fall into Brandon. Her back meets the wall behind her, and Brandon flips his body in one clean move so that he's in front of her and his back is to the bouncing glass. It all happens so fast, she's not sure how he even manages this.

Seconds after, their eyes meet, but they're not his eyes, they're her eyes, young and still growing and scarred eyes, and there's that familiar but intangible emotion flashing across them. Almost as if in slow motion she sees his body turn and she reaches for him, tries to hold him back but he's already crunching across the debris, pushing his drunken father to the back door. She fears something more will happen, but nothing does, and he's outside and the door is latched in under a minute.

"Is everybody okay?" is the first thing he asks, and now he carefully steps around the glass and steps down to hug his mothers, who look completely besides themselves. Lena is pretty calm, though its mostly just for Stef's sake, who is on the verge of tears but is almost too stunned. Callie stays in her corner, watches as they all comfort each other. Brandon invites her over with his eyes, but she can't. Back then, comfort wasn't a two-way street. It was just her comforting Jude. And she doesn't know how to come about that kind of care right now.

She rolls so that her shoulder is on the cool wall now but she ends up catching a glimpse of the living room, and there's a tiny figure where she was previously hiding, and she should be freaking out right now but she's not. She's so used to it now, it's happened so often they both are. It's been a while, but if anything, it's not as bad now. Jude's older, he knows nothing's sunshine and lollipops.

Still, she exits the kitchen and approaches him with her usual soft, empathetic voice. She can't help it, she'll never stop babying him, and she'd rather have him not see that whole ordeal. "I'm sorry, Jude. They tried not to wake you. Let's go back to bed, they're alright."

He doesn't protest as she walks him up the stairs, but he doesn't seem freaked out, either, as she expected. He's actually just curious. "Why was Brandon's dad like that? I thought he was nice."

"Ah," she flounders, because she does know why, but Jude doesn't have to know. He doesn't have to know about all the horrible adult world things, not yet. "I don't know, buddy." They stop in front of his door and she pats him on the back, urging him in to the room. "Now go get some sleep."

His hand is on the knob but he stops. "Hey, Callie?"

"Yeah?"

He isn't sad as he says it, it's almost as if he's reminiscing on some fine summer memory, something positive. But it's not something positive, he's just been so torn apart and broken by the world that he's practically numb. "That kind of reminded me of-"

"I know." she agrees, stopping him from finishing that sentence. They don't need to dwell on it. "I know. Sweet dreams."

* * *

"Alright Jesus, get up!"

He groans and rolls over, checking his bedside clock. It's only seven thirty and he's not going to school, so he doesn't get why Lena is tearing the comforter off his body, cutting him with those dull daggers. "But-"

"You're _suspended_ not sick, you do not get to sleep in while the rest have to go to school." She peels the sheets off of him and he suppresses a grumble as he slips off the side, standing around awkwardly, unsure of what she wants him to do. She nods to the door.

"What? Go eat breakfast. Then you can come back up, make your bed, then come back downstairs so we can figure out your punishment together."

"That's a lot of walking," he points out, but he's not trying to piss her off, he's quite serious, "why don't I just make my bed now, then go downstairs-"

She's on a short fuse, which isn't normal for her, but he's not yet aware of the night's events. "Go."

He slinks out of his room and downstairs, which is already void of all siblings, the car in the driveway gone. Lena, right behind him, sees where he's looking and explains, "I'm going in a little late so that we can sort things out before I leave."

"Great." he drones, and steps into the kitchen, where Stef is sitting, pretending to read a newspaper, but she keeps going over the same line, and she can hear the words in her head but all she can think about is Mike. She looks up only when he enters.

"Cereal's gone." she tells him, just as he's heading to get some, "You'll have to have toast. I need to go grocery shopping today."

"You kidding?"

"Hey," Lena warns, taking a seat next to Stef, who acknowledges her company with a squeeze of her hand, "that's what happens when you pick fights with people."

He snatches the loaf of bread off the counter and proceeds to unwind the twist tie and asks, "Why are you guys acting like it was mindless? I told you, I was defending our family. The whole school knows about everything!" He slams two pieces of bread in the toaster and turns. "And I wasn't picking a fight, that jerk was. Wouldn't you have done the same?"

They're in sync. "No."

"I meant if you were my age."

They don't miss a beat. "No."

He huffs, still sleepy and not in the mood, but Lena goes on, "Look, Jesus, we see that you've missed a few pills. Why aren't you taking them? You know what happens when you don't."

"This is not even related, I would've thrown that kid out of his seat even if I had taken my pill!"

His toast pops up prematurely and he flips around angrily, jamming the tray back down, but it just pops back up again, clearly broken. He tears the soft bread out of it and looks at them, not amused. "Do you see what I've been forced to go through?"

"Must be hard, Jesus," Stef agrees sarcastically, standing to retrieve her third cup of coffee, but Lena is a little more serious about the situation. "Just eat your breakfast, take your pill, and go make your bed. You're grounded for a week-"

"What?" he cuts her off, mouth full of white bread, "but I'm only suspended for two days!"

"Listen to your mother, Jesus." Stef says, setting him with a look, though she's remained surprisingly uninvolved this whole conversation. He watches her as she returns to her seat, flips through that dirty, old newspaper, long strands of hair sneaking out of her bun and into her eyes. She's wiped out. They both are, now that he comes to think of it. He sighs as he shuffles to the fridge, praying to God that there's still at least some juice left, when his foot kicks something across the floor. It clips the trashcan and they all watch as he bends over and holds it up to them, a tiny shard of glass that catches the early morning sunlight. "Did somebody break something? It's a piece of glass."

"Careful," Lena jumps up quickly and takes it from him, dumping it in the trashcan in record time, as if it's a time bomb. "Do you see any more on the floor?"

"No," he says slowly, eyeing the two suspiciously. "What happened? Is this why you guys are so grumpy?"

Lena looks to Stef, silently telling her that this is something she should tell him, if she wants. She glances at her watch. "I better be going. I'll see you guys later. Don't forget to do your homework, Jesus."

"Right." he assures, but he'll be doing it all in SSR, that's something that'll never change. He turns to the remaining mother and raises an eyebrow, waiting for her to explain, but what she offers is short and vague.

"Listen, Jesus, if you see Mike, just...just don't talk to him, okay? Just not right now. And if you see him, come and get me. He came by last night and he's just not in the right state of mind, but I promise you it's not forever." He's more interested than ever now, and she sighs, runs a hand through her disheveled hair and adds, "It's nothing to worry about it, he's not dangerous or anything but you kids don't have to get involved, okay?"

But it does sound like something to worry about it. "Well what happened?"

She stands and leaves her mug in the sink, and ruffles his hair as she walks past him, as if he's just a young boy again. "Hey, don't worry about it. And don't tell Lena I told you this, but thanks for defending our honor."

She curves around the staircase and heads back up to her room, and its only then that Jesus realizes what she's done, and he calls up at her from the kitchen, "Hey, that trick doesn't work anymore!" He should've seen that one coming, distracting him with the quick topic change. He'll just have to ask Brandon about it later.

* * *

Callie's out the car door before he can even put it in park.

He didn't exactly expect her to wait up for him, but it's too obvious to ignore the fact that she really doesn't want to talk to him, even after all that went down last night. Jude and Mariana climb out of the car next, barely saying their own goodbyes before taking off somewhere else. He locks the car and takes off after her, barely catching her before she's consumed by the mass of bodies in the hallway.

"Hey, can we talk?" he asks as he saves her from the jaws of the monster, gently pulling her by the arm back into the garden. She looks down at his hand, which he draws away at that very moment, then back up at him. With pursed lips, she hikes her sliding backpack back over her shoulder and holds onto the strap with both hands. "Last night," he begins, seeing as she's not going to do much talking, but she shakes her head and cuts him off there.

"Look, Brandon, I don't want you getting the wrong idea. I wanted you to know that I was there for you, as a _friend_," she emphasizes, slowing her speech in attempt to better get her point across, but he's never been easily deterred, "and I'm sorry about what happened with your dad. Really."

He looks upset as she says this, but he tells her, "All I was going to say was I'm sorry you had to see that. I'm sure it didn't do you any good."

"It's nothing new to me." she says automatically, and it's already too late when she catches herself, so she turns on her heel without another word and tries to take off again, but he seizes her arm once more.

"Wait, Callie, I didn't know," he's able to get her to face him but her eyes are at her feet now, avoiding that intense gaze that somehow always manages to exorcise all her secrets, no matter how hard she resists. "I didn't know your dad-"

"And you don't need to."

"You said he...but I didn't know he was..."

"An alcoholic?" she finishes for him, a little too harsh, even for her, "Yeah, well,_ I_ knew, and I still let him go out with my mom every night, knowing she would let him drive, anyway."

He can't believe how ridiculous she's being, he can't believe that someone can hate themselves so much that they'll take the blame for something that's out of their control. It hurts him inside to know that all these years she's lived with this guilt, all these years she's hated herself but managed to put on a brave face for Jude, took care of Jude as if she could live without the care for herself. She was forced to live without something she needed more than anything. "Callie, you were only a kid, you probably didn't even know what an alcoholic _was-_"

But she won't hear it. "I want to be your friend, Brandon, and this is _not_ something I'd talk about with any friend."

When she darts off towards the hallway, he darts after her, stopping her one last time next to a vending machine. She looks to the sky, lips pressed together so that her bottom one is almost curling under, and she looks like she'd rather be anywhere but here, but he assures her, "I'm sorry, we don't have to talk about it. Only if you want to. I really just want to know why my dad was like that."

This makes her meet his eyes, and her features pull together in confusion. "I don't know any more than you do."

"You were watching long before I came down, Callie," he reminds her, almost chiding, "You heard more than me. Something...something made him snap. That wasn't him."

She swallows softly, feeling less cornered now that the focus is no longer on her, though she'd still prefer a different topic, if there had to be one at all. She hesitates. "This is not the place to talk about it."

"I deserve to know, he's my dad."

"I know," she agrees, but she won't tell him. She won't be the one to ruin his day, if it's not already ruined. "But it's not my place to tell you. It's something your mom should tell you and I'm sure she will soon."

He opens his mouth to badger her more but suddenly Talya's behind him, greeting the duo meekly, and her hair is less vibrant and she doesn't even attempt a smile and she clings to Brandon instantly and now Callie's the third wheel. But she tries her best. "Hey, Talya, I'm really sorry to hear about your dad." She doesn't know if bringing him up is the right thing to do, but it's all she can think of with the redhead standing there so glumly.

"Hey, I didn't think you'd be here today," Brandon says before Talya can even acknowledge Callie's sympathy, so whether she was going to or not remains a mystery, but Callie doesn't stick around any longer to find out.

"I better get my books, and stuff," she excuses herself awkwardly, smiling so phony, and disappears in the sea of students in a matter of seconds. It has to be a new record. Brandon watches her go, so desperate for that info, he's not sure if he'll be able to offer Talya the attention she wants. But Talya speaks first.

"Yeah, my mom thought it'd be good for me. You know, to do some normal stuff." she explains, trying to fight through the hoarseness of her voice, but it's clear she's already getting run-down. "She even said I could somewhere after school. Maybe we could do something?"

"I don't know," he says tentatively, trying to make it seem like he doesn't mind her attached to his arm, but every time she does something like this it reminds him that he basically cheated on her. And now's not the time to fess up about it. Every little action is a painful reminder of what he's done. "I've got a lot to do."

Her face falls and she says, "Oh, okay, that's alright." But it's obviously not.

"How about this weekend?" he offers up quickly, and she straightens her body, and a little smile makes its way onto her face, and something inside of him explodes. He'd say it's his heart but as of right now he's not sure he has one. "Saturday?"

She nods and loops her arm through his. "Saturday works."

And there's not an ounce of sarcasm as he says it, but there's a hidden emotion in his voice, there's a hidden history of serious conversations and romantic undertones and a couple of kisses and a foster girl and he knows that this is his punishment for sinning, this is his own karma. "Great."

* * *

_Next week on The Fosters:_

_Stef is cleared to return to work_

_Jesus meets somebody new, who may or may not be good for him_

_and more_

_All new, Monday, September 16th _


	7. Episode 17

**A/N: You guys are out of this solar system! How's that for switching it up? Getting better? Thanks again for all the reviews, y'all got me to 100! It's the best feeling in the world to see triple digits. So I wrote this whole chapter yesterday. My week has been so busy. it took me forever to write this and it's only 4,500 words :( Sorry again for the short chapter, but I will deliver on Episode 20! Wanna know why? Because Episode 20 is going to be like a finale of sorts (only there will be no hiatus) and there'll be a lot of OMG moments (including a character death, soweez :[ but nobody you're in love with, I promise!) I always wished this show would be a little more dramatic, raw, you know? So I'm throwing in a little degrassi twist. I promise Brallie is endgame! The first Brallie A-HA moment will be in Episode 20, I swear! But that's all the hints I can give you (for now ;]). Lastly, I know you guys are going to hate the new character I have cause I hate her too, so no worries, you're supposed to! Keep reviewing, stay classy, stay beautiful, stay extra-terrestrial. **

* * *

**Episode 17**

Callie lets him be, for the most part.

Not that she wants him to start talking to her again, though the absence of his voice in her life is becoming quite strange. She's not used to the feeling of not being used to something- seeing as he had somewhat become her constant in the short time she's come to stay with the Fosters- he's always been there for her, unchanging. But now she hardly sees him, and when she does it's briefly as he's exiting or entering his room. He's made it his cave, his hideaway, and it seems to be doing its job.

It's easier to see him at school, but it seems he's avoiding her, because now he goes out of his way to take longer, different routes to class. He never once told her she still couldn't ride in the car with him, but she's been walking to school now. The air is less heavy outside, and it's clear he needs some space. She doesn't take it personally, he's been shutting everyone out. And she understands.

In fact, it's probably better for her. When Stef and Lena aren't discussing more serious matters, like Stef's impending first-day-back-at-work, they'll talk about the adoption, just to make sure they both still want to go through with it. As much as she hates pretending to be as eager as Jude, she knows it's what's best.

She knows she should initiate conversation with him some time, though. He needs to know someone is there for him. She's been through this. Friendship is not off the table, but timing is everything. Leap too fast and he'll think it's one of faith.

The day is oppressively hot. She trudges through this heat, her heart and mind racing, the combination producing excessive sweat. She wishes she could handle awkward situations better, then she could get a ride home, but Brandon doesn't just _stay mute_, he sends out that vibe that makes you want to grow a shell and slowly sink into it. So this is better for him, for her, for everyone. Other than this walk she doesn't get much exercise in, anyway.

Something compels her to walk down Talya's street. She wouldn't know where she lives hadn't it been for the time she decided to walk this way once and Talya was just pulling up in her driveway. It was, for lack of a better word, awkward, so she's not quite sure why she takes this way again, but she does.

As she nears her house, she sees that same blue prius pull up into the driveway, and she thinks about turning back, just to avoid any unnecessary, forced socializing. But Talya's house is far into a long stretch of block that would require much more energy to turn back on and change routes than to keep going straight. So the only remaining option is to cross over to the other side of the street, but the second her foot steps off the curb, Talya's parents are crawling out of the car, and her curiosity gets the best of her.

Talya isn't with them, and they don't know who she is (or if they do, they don't know what she looks like), so she should be safe as she continues along the sidewalk, pushing Mariana's earbuds further into her ears. Mariana is different now, a little nicer, especially to Callie, but not the same. She was never completely innocent when Callie arrived, but now her skin is thicker and she's seen things and heard things she probably shouldn't have, and she's different.

However, her taste in music still leaves much to be desired and Callie pauses the device in her pocket as she approaches the couple. They're walking up their pathway, completely oblivious of the brunette on the sidewalk that keeps sneaking peeks at them, and Talya's mom says, "Well, Talya sure will be happy to hear that was your last treatment."

She knows this is wrong, to eavesdrop like this, but she can't help it. Talya's always had this mischievous air around her, even though Callie tried hard to fully forgive her for her snooping, and Callie just needs the truth. She's not going to get another chance like this.

Callie's dragging out every step before she passes the house. Talya's dad agrees with his wife as she pulls out the house keys. "Yeah, but I don't want her getting the impression that it wasn't a trying experience. Skin cancer should not be taken lightly, I want her to-"

"I know, I've already got a bottle of Water Babies, you don't have to yell at me about it-"

"I'm not yelling, I'm just-"

"You're _grouching."_

Callie scurries along the rest of the way so she's completely out of sight, but they disappear into their house, still bickering. It's definitely not an attitude of someone who's terminally ill, and Callie finds herself rolling over everything until she reaches the house. Skin cancer? There's no doubting that that is the truth, seeing as it came straight from the horse's mouth, so that isn't the question.

The question is, what's Talya's truth?

* * *

She tries to be quiet as she closes the door, but the wind pulls it out from her fingers and it rattles the walls around her, awakening even the deepest inhabitants of the house. The rest of the walk was not just physically tiring but mentally; the usual internal debate took place over whether she should tell Brandon what she heard or not. It isn't her place to meddle, and what difference does it make to anyone? Talya obviously still feels threatened by her, and it would be wrong to use that weakness against her. But then Brandon's going through his own shit, and he's spending extra time and stress on a girl that is lying to him and doesn't exactly deserve it.

But who is she to say who does and doesn't deserve his time? She's certainly wasted enough of it.

So she thinks she'll just let it be, things will work out in the end, they have to. There'll be justice one way or another.

But then Brandon's slipping down the stairs, he's emerged from his cave, probably for his scheduled food break, which just so happens to be the moment she arrives, and they're forced to make eye contact. The wind has whipped her hair around her head, hiding her usual part line, and her face must look like she's just seen a ghost or something because he speaks to her, he actually opens his mouth and talks. "You okay?"

She just stares at him, dumbstruck, and now he's waiting at the bottom of the staircase, and she's wasting more of his time, and all she keeps hearing in her head is _tell him tell him tell him _but instead she says, "I'm fine."

And he's not convinced, obviously, but he walks away, and the internal debate enters rounds two.

* * *

"Hey, Callie?"

Callie looks up from her book, still gnawing on the end of her pencil as she looks to Lena in the doorway. She doesn't say anything, but Lena doesn't ask if she can come in, they're past that point of formality now. She waltzes in with a smile and Callie shifts on her bed so that Lena can take the end of it, and when she does, she picks up the book and admires it. "SAT, huh? Brandon let you borrow his book?"

"Yeah," Callie replies quietly, for fear of him hearing them, but one quick glance at his door determines that it's closed, and they're safe, "well, before he, you know..."

"I know," she nods, melancholy smile, "but he'll come around. He's just stressed out right now, he's got a lot on his plate. We all do. Which is why I wanted to talk to you, see if it was okay if we put off the adoption for a little while, just until Stef gets back into the groove of things at work, and everything with Brandon's dad clears up."

"Yeah, don't worry about it." she waves, relief washing over her. She knows she shouldn't feel glad that they're postponing it, but something about not being Brandon's actual sister for a little while longer is appealing. Her face scrunches up suddenly. "Does Brandon know about his dad? Because...well, because he was asking me about it the other day and I think he might be upset with me because I didn't tell him."

Lena sighs. "No, he doesn't. Stef wants to tell him tomorrow after school, so he has the weekend to cool down a little. We don't want it to distract him in class. Sorry if that's the case, but we appreciate it that you left it to us, Callie."

She doesn't realize that she's been nervously clicking her pencil this whole time, and when she catches herself, her hand stills and she forces a smile. "Yeah, sure."

Lena leans over the book between them and wraps Callie in a hug, and she's warm and smells like amber and vanilla and Callie doesn't care how sappy this is, she doesn't care how torn she feels about everything right now, she indulges and squeezes back. "We can't wait for you two to be officially part of the family, thank you for understanding."

When they pull away, there's the undeniable burn of somebody's eyes in her head and Callie's eyes float to the hallway outside her room, where Brandon stands, eyes hooded as he watches them interact. Lena's eyes follow and when she spots him she stands and says, "Hey, Brandon, you hungry for dinner?"

But even as she speaks to him, his eyes stay on Callie. It's like he's trying to say something; they're flashing with disinclination. Callie shrinks into her pillows.

Lena stops in the doorway. "Well, dinner should be done soon."

He nods curtly at his mom before disappearing back into his room, and Callie can't help but feel angry. Angry that he acts as if this is something she can control. As if there's another way for everything. She tried, the stars just won't align for them.

* * *

"Maybe you should just wait until Monday."

Stef sighs, but it quickly morphs into a smile as she rolls once again to face her wife, who's head is creased with incessant worry. "Lena, we've gone over this. There's no better way to ease into it than to start on a Friday. Then it's already the weekend!"

"But you could use a few more days-"

"Oh, God, a few more days and I'll surely be crazy," she pauses when she catches Lena's face, which is stone-like and not humored, but she practically whines, "Come on, Lena, I can only take so much of _The Golden Girls."__  
_

"Nobody told you to watch that."

She can't help the goofy grin at the sight of Lena on her back, arms crossed in defiance and eyes on the ceiling, in perfect child-like manner. "Oh, now you're just being a baby."

She snaps out of the charade and bolts upright, eyes narrow slits. "No, you're just taking this too lightly! With everything that's going on right now I can't fathom how you-"

"Just because I can joke, doesn't mean I'm not worried about anything." Stef says as she joins her in a sitting position, and her voice is a little lower, less prone to joking, "I'm just as scared as you."

"Gee, that helps."

"I don't mean about work." she soothes quickly, taking Lena's skinny hand in her own. "I've been assigned a new partner, someone that'll have my back this time. I'm just worried about Mike. Telling Brandon. I'm still a little worried about Jesus, too." Lena's hard exterior fades and she softens, scooting closer to Stef in the bed. "But we can't let it eat away at us, Lena, it's all going to work out."

"We can't be sure of that."

"I can be, as long as I have you."

Lena's eyes narrow, but they're twinkling with humor now. "Stephanie Foster, don't go sweet-talking me."

"When have I been known to sweet talk?" she hums, her voice laced with sarcasm, and they're both grinning as they lean in to kiss each other, firm and sweet and sleepy goodnight kiss. When they lay down again, in each others arms, they don't roll over, not once.

* * *

It's safe to say that punk won't be sitting near him again, but Jesus stills finds himself dreading going back to that class, and he's white knuckling his math book as he makes his way down the hallway, company-less. Mariana would've walked with him, hadn't Kelsey stopped at her locker to tell her what Julie did on Wednesday, and what Samantha is wearing to school today, and why Mark has been gone for a week.

Mariana got after her for telling the whole school about Callie, but she couldn't bring herself to give up their friendship. She's one of the last friends she has, and Jesus will just have to let that one slide.

"Mr. Foster, good to see you back. It's safe to assume you've completed all the math homework for the past two days, correct?" his teacher greets him as he enters, and he already knows this is going to be one hell of a period. Without a word he slips his work out from his binder and places it on his desk. The late bell hasn't rung yet, so the class is only half-full, but the eyes that do occupy the room are on him as he takes his seat in the front.

He hadn't even noticed the girl behind him until she leans over her desk and speaks to him. "We're glad you did what you did, dude's a dick."

"Excuse me?" Her voice nearly made him jump and this is all he can manage as he swivels to face her, eyebrows nearly touching. "I was suspended for two days because of it, wasn't cool."

She tosses her ebony hair out of her eyes using just a jerk of her head, and she laughs. "You serious? Two days without school? Would've done it myself if I hadn't already gotten suspended this year, don't want to get expelled."

He slides the beanie back out of his face a little, just to get a better look at her. He doesn't remember ever seeing her in this class, let alone around the school. She's got on heavy eyeliner and she's rolling a skateboard underneath her feet absently, raising an eyebrow at him as he just stares. Finally, he says, "This is a really nice school, what are you doing here?"

"Ouch," she chuckles, hardly offended. "But if that was a serious question and not just a jab, I'm here for the usual shitty reason, parents want me to get a better education."

The late bell rings loudly, so he takes this time to roll his eyes, adding sarcastically before he has to turn to face the teacher, "The nerve of some people."

"I'm getting the vibe that you don't like me."

"I don't know you."

"If you did, you'd like me."

The teacher bellows loudly, going on about how they can't just keep writing random work down and expecting him not to notice, so he glances at the girl behind him and says, "I don't know what you want."

"It's no coincidence that I'm sitting behind you today, I asked if I could move here. I know that your girlfriend...or ex-girlfriend...is gone now and I've always thought you were cute. I think you could use some stress-free, no strings attached fun, you know?"

He looks away. "I'll pass."

She leans in again and whispers, since the teacher is now lecturing on the board, "Do you know what no strings attached means? It means no expectations, no titles, no worries. You need a friend, at least."

"Really? You expect me to believe all you want is a friend after that little speech?" he scoffs, trying to take notes, but he can't concentrate with the girl behind him breathing down his neck.

Finally, she sits back. "Fine, if you don't want to hang with some chill people, get away from that demanding little family of yours, that's on you. But we hang out in the parking lot after school, if you change your mind."

He doubts he will.

* * *

Teenagers crawl out of the school like thousands of ants, the school bursting at the seam, tee-shirts stuck in exploding briefcases. Jesus spots Callie making her way through the picnic benches to begin her walk home, and for a moment he considers joining her, but that could end two different ways and he doesn't really want to take a gamble. Callie will be his sister soon but until then, he's not going to force her into any unnecessary pre-sibling interaction.

Besides, his feet don't seem very interested in that idea, as he finds himself at the edge of the parking lot, looking out across it, trying to spot a skinny, raven-haired girl. It's impossible, though, as everybody seems to be leaving at once, swarming the lot to find their cars, but he takes off across it, anyway.

He doesn't know what's compelling him to do so but he's not very interested in returning home already. He just needs a break from it all, there's always something going on at home.

He makes it to the other side of the lot without spotting the girl once, and he's about to give up and just head home when he hears his name and a holler from inside an alley that makes up the backside of a strip of homes. There's a small circle of kids, and the raven-haired girl, waving him over. Something about the whole thing seems a little sketchy, but he's moving towards them again, coming to stand in their circle.

"I had a feeling you'd come around, you're not like all those other squares." she says as his feet stop, then adds, "everyone, this Jesus Foster, Jesus, this is everyone."

He doesn't know who everyone or anyone is, and he certainly doesn't know who she even is, but before he had even stepped foot in the alleyway he could smell the weed, that pungent, skunk-like odor, almost laced with lemon, and she's holding a blunt in her hands. "Are you guys smoking right next to the school? Really?"

"We've been doing it since freshman year, those fools never catch us." another beanie-donning stoner informs him, almost as if to reassure him, but he sounds so void of intelligence, Jesus takes it with a grain of salt.

Jesus merely shakes his head and turns around, but the girl catches his arm. "Just take a hit, it's free and you'll be glad you did."

"How generous."

"No, really," she insists, holding it up to him, "I know you could use it."

He rips away from her, ready to stomp off. "You don't know me!"

But she's angry that he's angry with her, and she growls, stopping him in his tracks, "I know that your mom just got shot and it may or may not be your fault, so you're probably blaming yourself for it right about now. Yeah," she says when his face falls, signaling that she's right or pretty close to it, "yeah, so trust me when I say you'll thank me for it."

He turns around and gets in her face, but he doesn't take the blunt from her. "I don't know what you want from me or why you're suddenly so interested in befriending me but I'm not, so leave me alone."

She lets him walk off this time. "Your loss, Jesus!"

* * *

Callie decides not to unravel the ipod in her pocket today, she's listened to almost every song on Mariana's ipod and isn't exactly impressed. She should probably return it to her now, she doesn't see herself getting much more use out of it, unless of course, Mariana allowed her to download some of her own music on it, but she's not sure she'd be so generous. And then she thinks, she's not sure she even has her "own music". She rarely listens to the radio.

Her eyes wander to the parking lot, where she glimpses Jesus before he's hidden behind a row of cars. She searches for Brandon's car, just to see if he hasn't left yet. He spoke to her yesterday, that has to count for something, maybe it wouldn't be so awkward to hitch a ride again. But when he stood in the hallway, looking so stoic, it may have thrown them off once more, balanced things out. She was wrong about the stars not aligning for them, the stars always align for them.

Just not the way they want them to.

"Hey!"

Callie freezes on the sidewalk, fingers curling around her backpack strap as her eyes meet Mike's. He pulls up to the curb but he doesn't get out of his car, just keeps his window rolled down as he says, "you're Callie, right? Do you know if Brandon has left school already?"

She steps back a little, glancing around. "Um...I don't...no, I don't know...I'm sorry."

"But you're the girl Brandon ran away for, how could you not know?"

She inches back a little more. She can tell he's not drunk but he may as well be, he's got thick stubble coating his face and his hair looks like it could use a good washing. From what she can see of his shirt, he could use a clean one, too. "I'm sorry, I really don't know."

"Callie,"

Brandon's marching up behind her, eyes like daggers, and Mike says, "Brandon! Just the guy I was looking for!" despite the obvious anger written over his face, and he grabs Callie by the arm when he reaches her, planting her behind him.

"What are you doing here?" he demands, and when he sees him reach for the door handle, he grinds out, "open that door and I'll walk away right now."

He doesn't seem to like the idea but he stays put. "I really think we should talk."

"You came to my house in the middle of the night, completely wasted, and broke my mom's china! You don't get to talk."

"Brandon-"

"And stay away from her," he adds, regarding Callie, "and my whole family. If and when we think you deserve our time, we'll find you."

"Brandon," Callie begins, but he grabs her by the arm again and starts tugging her away with him, and when she looks over her shoulder, Mike's watching them go in the side view mirror, looking completely and absolutely broken.

He walks behind her the whole way, ushering her in front of him, his hand lightly on her back, to the parking lot until he hears his dad's engine roar to life again and take off. When he pulls his hand away, he asks for the second time in just two days, "You okay? He didn't say anything...do anything?"

"No...he was fine, Brandon."

He looks at her, completely disbelieving, as they both climb into the car. "Fine? Are you kidding me? Did you even see him?"

"I meant that he wasn't drunk. That's a start, isn't it?"

"What are you trying to say, that I should've let him talk?"

She exhales softly, leaning against the passenger door. "I'm not saying anything. Where's Jude and Mariana?"

"They should be coming."

The car goes silent, and suddenly Callie's wishing she'd just torn free from him and walked home again, but it's extra hot today and her thighs still hurt from the detour she took yesterday, so she bears with it. She examines the dirt under her fingernails, avoiding any and all eye contact with the boy next to her. Where are Mariana and Jude?

"I just can't take this anymore."

Callie looks up slowly, afraid to meet his eyes, but when she looks at him he's running his hands over his face in distress. "What?"

"Everything. My dad, Talya," he removes his hands from his face and looks at her, "you."

Desperate to bring the attention away from her, and seeing it fit now that he knows the truth about Talya, just to take some of the load off of him, she says, "Brandon, there's something you should know. I should've told you yesterday but I didn't know if it was right."

He doesn't say anything, just waits for her to explain, his interest piqued. "Yesterday, I passed by Talya's house when I was walking home, and I overheard her parents talking. Talya's dad had skin cancer, Brandon, on his left ear. It was bandaged. His last treatment for it was two days ago."

"What?"

She looks out her window briefly, spotting Mariana and Jude approaching quickly, smiling as they chat. "What did Talya tell you?"

"She said he had _lung _cancer."

Before either can say more, the door flies open and Jesus shoots in, chucking his bag on the floor. "Hey, decided not to walk today." He eyes Callie in the front seat, obviously confused at the appearance, and says, "I see you're not either." He's looking between the two, trying to decipher what's going on, but then Mariana and Jude are sliding in, talking rapidly.

When Mariana finishes her story, she leans forward, having seen Callie in the front seat on the way over, and asks, "Everything good?"

But Brandon is the one to answer, as he looks over his shoulder and carefully pulls out of the space. "Peachy."

* * *

_Next week on The Fosters:_

_Stef tells Brandon about his father_

_Brandon has to deal with Talya_

_and more_

_All new, Monday, September 23rd _


	8. Episode 18

**A/N: Hello everybody, I hope all is well with you, I am terribly sorry for my absence, someone very close to me passed and I couldn't find much passion or energy for writing. I hope you'll forgive me, I know there are better excuses. Thanks as always for the continued support, I don't think I'll ever get to responding directly to those Episode 17 reviews but I do greatly appreciate them. And to those that reviewed even in my absence, urging me to update, thank you. You are the reason I have written this. I hope this will suffice for now, I couldn't muster much but I threw in an unplanned Brallie scene to show my sincerest apologies. On a side note, I hope to clear up any questions you may have about my writing style, I know there seems to be some run-on sentences and strange structure and stuff but I assure you I am keenly aware of it, I've purposely done it to prove a point or display something. I hope it's easy for you to infer! Also, is there a great following still reading this story? Just wondering, I know it's hard to get that Foster fever when the show's been gone so long, and I don't want to keep writing this if there's only about ten people reading it. Just let me know, yeah? Thank you :) You are all amazing as always, thank you for your inquiries. P.S. The reason Lena's home in this episode is because she wanted to take the day off for Stef's first day (and because of my inconsistencies with writing, guilty), so assume there's another vice-principal in her place. Awe, fluffy supportive wife stuff! **

* * *

**Episode 18**

He wants to drive to her house now.

He wants to stop, with everybody still in the car, bang on her door until it swings open under his fist, and yell at her. Yell at her because _she lied she lied she lied _when she knows that all he wants right now is the truth. The truth about everything, his dad, Callie, everything that has ever deceived him, remained hidden from him. He's not a kid, he deserves the truth, and lately that's been his mantra. Talya's heard it several times and she lies on.

He doesn't even notice he's white-knuckling the steering wheel until Callie turns on the radio, purposely trying to catch his eye, and shoots him a look. The country twang slices through silence that had, unbeknownst to him in his blind rage, fallen in the car. He releases his shoulder and leans back into his seat, trying to breathe, but Talya's house is so close and Callie is so close and his dad was so close and all he can think about is how everything always seems so close but just out of his reach.

"So...how was school?" Mariana draws out, trying in vain to avoid the awkward pitch-change in her voice due to the strange situation, "For anybody, I mean. It's not directed at anyone specifically."

"I think we got you, Mariana." Jesus does not chuckle, but there is humor in his eyes. Mariana is tolerable compared to that raven-haired girl he's sure won't stop trying to entertain his company, and then he's wondering if he should mention her at all, since she did seem to know about what happened to their mom, and they deserve just as well as him to know when the word is out about their family. But it's obvious there's some underlying tension in the car and he doesn't dare add to it, not now, so he answers in short, his usual answer. "My day sucked."

Mariana raises both eyebrows. "Throwing us a curve ball there, Jesus." she drones sarcastically, before addressing Jude. "Hey, why don't you tell Callie what you got on your math test?"

Callie adjusts her seat belt so she can pivot in her seat. "What'd you get?"

"An 89!" he pouts, throwing his hands in the air. "One point away from an A! How could they do that to me?"

"Hey," she sets him with a look, "I'm sure it was little mistakes you made. As long as you reviewed it, you won't make the same ones again. An 89 is an A to me, anyway."

"It's not an A to Miss Lewis."

Callie rolls her eyes before turning back around in her seat, catching Brandon briefly, who seemed less in his own little world as he listened to her and Jude interact. When he glances at her, her lips twitch up in the semblance of a smile, though he doesn't return one.

"Brandon?"

He peeks into the rear view mirror at Mariana. "Huh?"

"How about you?" she prompts, and when his eyebrows draw together, confused, she adds, "How was your day?"

He pulls into the driveway, letting out a long breath the whole way. The whole car seems to be watching him, waiting for his answer. He releases his seat belt and says, "About to get a whole lot worse."

* * *

"Hey guys! How was school?"

"What happened with Dad?" Brandon demands, ignoring Lena entirely and fixating on his mom, who pauses just as she's about to put a grape in her mouth, fully uniformed in the kitchen. The interruption is so unexpected that almost everybody just walks away, all except Callie, who hangs back in the doorway. Lena is taken aback by his tone, though she's not insulted by his want to know, as he has a right to, but it's his mother's first day back at work and he doesn't bother asking how it's been so far. She even came home on a break just to see them (though it was mostly for Lena's sake). "Why isn't he working? He showed up at school today and tried talking to Callie. What happened?"

"We were going to tell you tomorrow." Stef assures him, placing the grape back on the plate in front of her for the fear that if she eats it he'll be offended by the casualness and think she's not taking him seriously. "We wanted to settle into things again a little."

"Don't you get it? Things aren't going to settle! I just found out that Talya's dad had _skin _cancer, not lung cancer! She's been to lying to me this whole time! And now I see Dad outside of school looking like another homeless man! Tell me, mom," he pants, red in the face, unaware he's tensing the muscles in it, "they fired him, didn't they?"

At this point, Callie sneaks away upstairs, where she finds Jesus, Mariana and Jude all huddled at the top, clearly eavesdropping on the ordeal. She shakes her head and ushers Jude off into his bedroom to start his homework, to which he whines about always being out of the loop.

Stef and Lena exchanged equally weary expressions. "Yes," Stef finally sighs, "yes, your father was laid off."

"_Laid off_?" he repeats bitterly, "no, you make it sound as if the decision was tough for them, he was _fired, _I know it, my dad's a complete, drunken loser, just say it!"

"He was already being evaluated before this, Brandon, it wasn't just because of his drinking problem," she explains, then unsure if she should even tell him about what Ana saw, adds in hopes he'll drop the former half of her explanation, "but your father isn't a loser. He needs help but he's not a loser, just a little lost."

But she hasn't thrown him off. "Being evaluated? For what?"

Half-expecting him to ask anyway, she's ready with a reply. "Just the way he carried out procedures, nothing major. Look, your father really needs a good support system right now and we're going to get him some help. But he's not going to get anywhere without you behind him." When he starts to open his mouth in obvious opposition, she goes on, "I know you're not happy with him right now and we don't have to jump into anything but think about it. He loves you and I know you love him, that hasn't changed."

He shakes his head. "Everything has changed."

"B-"

But he's already got his car keys in his hand again and is heading out the door.

* * *

"Brandon?" Talya looks almost frightened as she finds him on her doorstep, and she only allows a small crack in her door so she can squeeze out. "I didn't know you were coming by? Were we supposed to hang out?"

He drops his keys in his pocket. "Can I come in and see your dad?"

"He's bedridden," she says quickly, tugging her sweater around her body, practically disappearing in her shell, "and not really accepting guests, if you know what I mean." She attempts a chuckle but it sounds forced and awkward. "It's one of those moods."

He nods. "Right, well, I'm in one of those moods, too, and I came here to see your dad, so I'm going to see your dad."

"It's fine-" she begins, trying to side step in front of him, but he pushes past her swiftly and opens the door himself, finding Talya's mom in the living room watching some home design show. She looks up at the sound of him entering forcefully. "Oh, Brandon, what a nice surprise! We were just talking about how we haven't seen you around here lately!"

"Let's just go get some food or something, Brandon," Talya panics, but Brandon ignores her and goes with the whole charade, replying casually, "Yeah, Talya hasn't invited me over lately, you know, since everything with her father..."

She raises an eyebrow as he trails off, unsure of why the skin cancer would be reason to keep him away. "Oh?"

"Brandon, seriously, I'm just hungry-"

"Yeah, lung cancer, wow, I'm really sorry to hear it."

"Lung cancer?"

"Brandon-"

"Talya?"

Talya stops whining and brings herself to look at her mom. "What's going on?"

But before she can answer her dad steps into the room from another, grinning as he spots Brandon. "Hey, Brandon! Good to see you! We were just talking about how we haven't seen you in a while," he bellows, shaking his hand firmly.

"Yeah, well," he turns to look, almost with disgust, at the girl next to him, "that might be because Talya told me you had lung cancer instead of skin cancer, and had to keep me away to keep up with her lies."

The room, at this point, has grown unnaturally quiet, except for the television, which continues to blast decorating tips throughout the cold room. Most eyes settle on Talya, but Brandon is done looking at her. In fact, his job is done completely, and with one last gander at the flabbergasted couple he nods his head.

"I hope you'll forgive me for the intrusion, I better be going now."

As he turns to leave, Talya has the nerve to call after him. "Brandon, wait!"

But it falls on deafened ears.

* * *

The rapping on his door is just that, rapping, and he wouldn't have heard it if he wasn't just sitting on his bed, staring at the textbook in his lap. He doesn't want to talk to anyone right now, especially not his mom, so he doesn't say anything, but the knob turns with a creak anyway, revealing Callie in the doorway. "Hey, I just wanted to see if you were okay."

He doesn't say anything, though she didn't expect him to, so she goes on. "I mean, I know you aren't but I know what it's like to be on the other end of the questions and sometimes it's nice to just hear someone ask it, anyway."

He looks up, glassy-eyed, and nods. "Thanks."

There's silence for a few seconds, and when he returns to his book again, she shuffles around awkwardly before whispering, "Okay, goodnight."

"Wait," he demands, and she does, and when he looks up again his eyes aren't watery anymore, they're clear, as if by some revelation or just a matter of time, "don't think that I'm just going to let this go."

She takes a step inside the room, tilting her head a little. "Let what go?"

"_Us,"_

She can't contain her scoff. "Brandon, you just broke up with Talya, and not only that but-"

"I know," he barks, tossing the textbook aside and rising from his bed, "I know, there's Jude, and there's the rules, and there's all of these other things trying to tell us that it won't work but you can't keep pretending that you don't feel it, too."

"Brandon," she says, almost incredulous, "you realize that doing...whatever this is...only sacrifices any chance at happiness for me?"

"You have two choices," he states, strolling up to her to close the door behind her, "and one sacrifices your happiness, but I'm telling you it's not the one that you think. It's not the one that you keep pretending is."

"You are on some trip today that you may regret tomorrow, Brandon, now is not the time to do this."

"When is it ever the time for you?" he asks, and she falls back into the door, trying to put some space between their faces, her heart thumping wildly in her chest. This is a different side of Brandon, a little darker, more dangerous. It's definitely strange, but the butterflies in her stomach seem to have doubled.

"You're right, never." she breathes, blindly reaching for the door knob to escape, but he catches it himself before she does. "This isn't a good idea, Brandon."

"Tell me you don't feel anything and I'll leave you alone."

"I have told you," she almost whines, "but you haven't stopped, what's different now?"

"Everything's different now. I can take another loss."

And maybe it's the way he says it, the way he sounds slightly unsure, though his face is unwavering, or maybe it's the way he has her pinned, his last resort, or the way it finally feels like just the two of them, and everything is so raw and truthful, that makes her roll up onto her toes and kiss him.

It's brief, but Brandon doesn't press, he simply questions, "And what did that mean?"

"I don't know...yet."

"You pity-"

"No," she shakes her head furiously. "No, I don't pity you. I just...I just need time. To think."

He sighs and walks away from her, towards his keyboard. Just that fact alone is a step in the right direction, he hasn't hit a key in over a week. "If you had been as demanding with money as time, we'd be broke."

She swings open the door and steps out into the cool hallway. "Goodnight, Brandon."

* * *

_Next week on The Fosters:_

_Jesus must face the girl again, and the family rumors_

_Brandon must decide whether to support his dad or not_

_and more_

_All new, Monday, October 7th _


	9. Episode 19

**Episode 19**

The rain falls relentlessly.

"It's the weekend! It's not supposed to be raining!" Mariana pouts as she shuffles aimlessly around her room, almost dizzying Callie -who's still laying under her covers- with her zig-zag movements. "I have stuff to do!"

Callie's eyes squeeze shut again, and she tries to imagine a quiet, Mariana-less room, and the soft clinking of raindrops on the window, and the faint tick of the clock in the hallway, and sweet sleep, only these things and nothing else. But it isn't her room, it's Mariana's, and the world, as she has come to find it, is not perfect, and definitely not fair. So she slowly sits up, allowing a small, knowing smile. "It's water, Mariana, not acid. You can still go out."

"But my hair-"

"You're perfect, Mariana," she cuts in, slowly slinking out from under her covers, swinging her legs over the side of the bed, "rain or no rain, your hair stays nice. So you can shut up, yeah?"

Mariana's eyes go wide and she purses her lips in a smile. "Wow, I'm really feeling the love! What's gotten into you? Is rain your thing?"

Callie rolls her eyes as she pads past her towards the door. "No," she stops, "well, yeah, I just...I don't know. I'm just trying to figure things out. You know, if I belong in this family..."

"Of course you do!" Mariana is flabbergasted at the thought that she doesn't see herself fitting in here, and Callie sees this in her face, how she really does mean it, and she wishes she hadn't even brought it up. This only adds to the confusion. It just feels so nice to have something like a sister for once. "If anything, you keep this crazy family a little sane."

"That'd be a nice thought," she muses as pulls the door open, "if that were true."

Mariana calls after her down the hallway. "Now _you're _the one that needs to shut up!"

* * *

Callie's at the kitchen doorway when she hears his voice at the island, so she stops. Stef is refilling her cup of coffee and Lena is on her elbows on the counter, and his voice is soft but wavering as he says, "I want to help him."

She rolls so her back is to the wall, and though she can still hear every word of their conversation, she feels less intrusive like this. Stef is not getting her hopes up yet, clearly, because she says, "That sounded like a _but."_

"I want to help him," he repeats, his voice a little more solid, "but I can't if he doesn't want to help himself."

Stef is heard sipping her joe, probably trying to buy some time to think of the best way to convince him. "Okay," she says, and she sounds supportive of his decision, but she adds, "okay, but that's assuming he doesn't want to get better, and all assumptions aside, do you want to help him or not?"

Up until now, Callie's been pretty content not concerning herself in their affairs, but she feels the sudden responsibility to push Brandon towards his father. He may have done some pretty messed up things, but at least he's there. At least he's still got a dad, and a mom, and she bets making an appearance now will remind him, being the intellectual he is, that he's the luckier than a lot of kids at his school. He deserves a dad.

So she walks in, and all three sets of eyes fly to her, and she has to say, just as a common courtesy, "Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt anything." but she's not sorry at all. Stef smiles behind the rim of her mug and Lena greets her with breakfast inquiries.

But Brandon, without taking his eyes off Callie, says to his mom, "Yeah. Yeah, I'll help him."

Callie has to turn and open the fridge just to hide her blush.

* * *

When Callie leaves the kitchen she's aware of the footsteps behind her, but only stops to face the owner when she's in front of the staircase. She's prepared to say something, but he speaks first, catching her wrist so that she doesn't walk away. Not that she would, he's just a little confused after what she said the night before, and doesn't know how much more time she needs. "I've been an ass. You're always right."

"I never called you an ass."

"I know," he clarifies, his eyes circling her face, catching the color in her cheeks at their proximity and almost reveling in it, though he doesn't indulge himself too much as he still doesn't know what her choice will be in the end. When Jude is concerned, however, it never ends well for him. "I meant, you always know what to say and do. I should just listen to you more."

Her tongue darts out across her bottom lip, clearly trying to replenish some moisture sucked out by either the weather or her current situation. "Yeah," she breathes, nodding her head shortly a couple of times, "that'd be nice."

He allows himself a smile, surprised to see her flustered. "Well, at least you're not modest."

This conversation could definitely spoil the integrity of her "experiment" of sorts, but just as she's about to tell him that they shouldn't be having this conversation here or now, there's a loud knocking on the door, and he releases her wrist to answer it.

As soon as the door is open, the sound of pounding rain fills the foyer, along with the chill of it, and Callie folds her arms over her chest. Talya is standing on their porch, a few wet strands of hair tucked behind her ears, her sweater dotted with the remnants of rain.

"What are you doing here?" Brandon demands, and if it weren't raining, the door would definitely be shut in her face right now, but she braved the bad weather just to come here and he has to give her that much. "I thought I made it pretty clear-"

"Please, please let me explain myself," she begs, and the roll of his eyes tells her that he'd really rather not hear her out but he will. It's just like him to, and the thought of it makes her teary-eyed; the thought of everything she threw away makes her sick. "I couldn't lose you, you know I couldn't, but I had nothing to make you stay. And there was just so much going on-"

"So you thought that you'd add to my stress."

"No! No, I never wanted that, Brandon," she breaks, trying to stop her bottom lip from quivering, "I was stupid, though, I know that, and I know what I did was wrong, but I felt threatened," she looks over his shoulder just to see if she's around, and it just so happens that she's standing right by the staircase, watching the whole thing, "by her, by Callie, and with good reason!"

Brandon doesn't even flinch, he's not moved by her performance. With a certain coldness, he asks, "Then why are you here?"

"Brandon," Callie speaks, having made her way behind him now, and though she's not inviting Talya inside, offering her a warm blanket, she feels a little for the girl. Perhaps approaching the two is not the best idea, and will only anger her further, but the redhead is clearly broken and she can't watch Brandon tear her up further. "We should go help your moms with breakfast."

He looks down at her, confused as to why she wants to cut Talya slack, but goes with it, anyway. However, he has nothing left to say to her, and Callie finds herself having to dismiss her. "Drive safe, Talya, with the rain-"

"Yeah," she slices in, her voice thick with resentment, "_thanks a lot."_

The second the door is shut, Brandon can't contain his curiosity. "Talya's done a hell of a lot of stuff to you and you still find compassion for her. I'll never understand you."

Callie glances towards the kitchen, finds the two moms still chatting over coffee and a magazine, completely oblivious, and looks back up at Brandon. "I can't take credit for that, actually, I was feeling a little smug, you know," she stalls a little, unsure if she'll be able to admit this now, and how he'll react if she does, "because I kind of won, I guess?"

He nods briefly. "Yeah, I guess she did kind of start a war."

She bites her lip as he takes one last look at her before starting up the stairs. Her heart is pounding in her ears but the words tumble out of her mouth before she can even think about stopping them. "I meant you. I got you."

He stops halfway up and twists around in a flash. "What are you saying?"

"I don't know." she admits quietly, but she's not taking back what she's said, she really just doesn't know. He starts up the stairs again without a word and she jogs up after him, catching his arm near the top two steps. "It doesn't have to mean something right now."

He looks down at her, and she's shorter than ever on the step below him, and she looks so frightened just waiting for him to say something so he says gently, "I wish it could. But I'm not going to push you, not anymore."

She smiles, and while her eyes are flashing with thank yous, they're full of pain, so he leans forward and just barely kisses her where her forehead and hairline meets. Her eyes close on contact, but when she opens them again, there's another pair on the two. Mariana's standing just above them, looking thoroughly confused. "What's going on?"

"Nothing." they both say at the same time, making nothing look an awful lot like something, but they're saved by the doorbell yet again, though neither make a move, still gouging Mariana's reaction. Jesus appears besides her in the next moment, catching all of their faces, and prompts, "Are we having one big staring contest or is someone going to get the door?"

"Uh," Mariana utters, and Jesus shoots them all a strange look before going to answer it, though Stef's got him beat, chirping as she spots him, "There you are! About time you got outta bed. Momma's got breakfast on the table."

But she swings the door open and when Jesus catches that raven hair he has to stop and push right up next to Stef, who asks the girl, "Can I help you?"

But she completely ignores Stef, her eyes drawn to Jesus. "Yeah, I came to talk to Jesus, hey."

"Hey?"

Stef looks between the two. "I don't believe I've been introduced to her before, _Jesus_,"

Jesus' eyes narrow on her. "Yeah, neither have I."

"Tiffany." The girl offers Stef with a sad smile before addressing Jesus again. "After hearing the news, I feel like a total bitch, I just wanted to say I'm sorry for everything, and I'm so sorry for your loss."

Stef raises an eyebrow, exchanging baffled looks with the trio that has made their way behind her now. Jesus' eyebrows are torn between confusion and anger. "My _loss?"_

She appears genuinely confused, too, as she says, "Wait, you haven't...you haven't seen the news?" When she sees their expressions, she knows she's screwed up. "Shit, I thought you guys would've seen it...I'm sorry, I've got to go." She darts off their porch in record time, taking off on her skateboard down the sidewalk, rain and all.

"Turn the news on." Jesus demands, his voice unnaturally quiet, his heart beating a little harder. Stef closes the door and retrieves Lena while Brandon walks over to flick on the television, turning it to their local news station. The room grows eerily quiet as they listen to some story on contaminated meat, almost huddling in the center of the room, impending despair poisoning their hearts. The woman news anchor announces the next top story of the morning, and a picture of a girl pops up in the corner of the screen. Lexi.

He thinks Stef says something along the lines of "Oh no" or "Oh God" but Lena's hand just flies to her mouth, and Callie stumbles back into Brandon, and she lets him pull her closer because nobody is paying attention, nobody except Jesus, because suddenly everything is so clear, he's so keenly aware of everything, and everything is in slow-motion. Everything that will scar him, that is, because he can see the news anchor's mouth moving but all he can hear is "Lexi" and "found dead" and the last thing he sees before he checks out is Mariana dashing out of the room to throw up.

Then he throws up.

* * *

**A/N: So the author's note is down here because I've noticed quite a few of you guys don't read it before the story, because in your reviews you'll ask stuff or say stuff that I've already answered or said (though I'm quite flattered by it, since it can only mean you're so eager to read the story, so thank you.) But I would prefer you read it! Also, I don't have a little synopsis for next weeks because I want it to be a surprise! I'm hoping Episode 20 will be an intense episode for you guys! Thank you to everyone that reviewed again in my absence, I'm sorry I skipped another week. I really did mean to update but I pulled open my notepad and just stared at it for a good hour. Finally I got the urge to write this! No more absences after this, though, I promise, so feel free to bug me as much as you want about it! Don't worry about me, I'm all good now. Thanks to everyone for their condolences! I hope this chapter didn't upset anyone too bad, I don't think anyone is that infatuated with Lexi, but her death will definitely be hard for the twins, and that's why my heart hurts! My apologies if I've ruined anyone's day. (I hope I haven't!) Let me know what you all think & have a fergilicious day! :) **


	10. Episode 20

**Episode 20**

"Is all of this necessary?"

Stef doesn't even make an effort to find her spouse's face as she hastily throws on her uniform, a whirlwind of yanking and noise and anxiety. "I have to get down to the station, I have to know what happened, I have to know if maybe it's not true...you know the media these days-"

"Stef," Lena says softly, her voice unusually solid and sure, "that much is true. The news doesn't just go pronouncing people dead without evidence." Stef looks up as she tugs on a shoe, but she's not really listening to her, she just shakes her head rapidly.

"Regardless, I have to do this for Jesus, for Mariana, they need some hope-"

"_Hope_?" she repeats, absolutely flabbergasted as she strides towards the cop, who's now standing in front of the closet mirror, adjusting her sloppy outfitting job. "You mean _false _hope! You can't do this to them, Stef, think about what you're saying-"

"I know what I'm saying, Lena!" She turns to her now, and there are wild hairs escaping her bun and her eyes are already unbelievably bloodshot as she addresses her. "They need the truth, they need the facts, they need something to hang on to because I will _not _lose my kids! I will not just sit around and watch everything I love about them disappear!"

Lena's forehead relaxes and she sighs quietly. "They're troopers. They might not be fine now but they will be. These things...these things aren't new to them."

"It shouldn't have to be that way." Stef mutters as she side steps Lena and snatches the car keys off their dresser, stopping only when she finds Brandon in the doorway. "Hey, I'm just going to head down to the station for a while."

"Yeah, I heard." he admits, looking between the two. "I think that's a good idea. You should go with her, nobody should be alone right now."

Lena shakes her head without a second thought. "Which is exactly why I need to stay here. Mariana and Jesus-"

"Aren't going to be any more responsive to you than to me." he cuts in honestly. "Callie's here with me. We've got this. They'll be fine. We'll be fine. You'll be back before they even realize you've gone."

Lena and Stef lock eyes, both thoroughly conflicted, though Stef seems to sort through it first. "I need you." she admits, her voice lower than it was just moments before. "I need my rock."

Lena's eyes appear a little glassy when she meets Brandon's. "Okay," she agrees quietly, running a frantic hand through the side of her hair, "okay, you're in charge, get everyone together, you guys need to be together. Watch the twins. We'll be back soon."

Lena collects her few belongings and the two women kiss their son briefly on the cheeks before darting past him downstairs and out the door. He can barely hear the car start over the pouring rain now, which is suddenly very fitting.

When he turns on his heel back into the hallway, Callie's standing in the middle, staring at Jude's bedroom door, and seems to be so entranced by it that she doesn't even notice Brandon when he approaches her. "What is it?"

She looks up at him from the corner of her eye, biting her bottom lip. "Jude...nobody told Jude. I can't..." she shakes her head erratically before turning her body a little more towards him, "Brandon, I can't tell him...how am I supposed to tell him?" Her eyes lock on his chest, focusing on the third button of his shirt. It's easier to just check out for a while.

He can see why she wouldn't want to do it, even though it's not her fault, always being the bearer of bad news can be very impressionable on children. "Don't...don't worry about it. I'll tell him." he offers, but she doesn't raise her eyes, not even at this. She only moves her head when his hand is on the door knob, pushing into Jude's bedroom without a knock. "Jude?"

He looks up from his PSP, still laying in his pajamas on his unmade bed. "Sorry, I'll come down for breakfast right now."

"No, no," Brandon says gently, waving him off as he takes a seat on the edge of his bed, "that's alright, actually, my moms just left. They're going over to the police station for a little bit to find out about something that happened."

He pauses his game and puts it down, but he hasn't entirely caught on to the seriousness of the situation yet. "Something happened?"

"Yeah, an accident," he says slowly, and when Callie appears in the doorway, looking clearly distraught, Jude's eyebrows thread together in a deep 'V'. He's afraid to ask again, but he does. "Callie, what happened?"

Brandon looks back at Callie once before turning back to Jude and explaining, "Mariana and Jesus' friend Lexi passed away yesterday." Jude looks to Callie for confirmation, and when she nods her head slightly, leaning on the door frame, he finds Brandon again, but doesn't say a word. "We don't know how or why yet, and I know it's not fair, but she's safe and happy now wherever she is, so you don't have to worry about that."

He brings his legs to his chest and wraps his arms around them, almost casually, and nods. "Okay."

Callie finds her voice. "Jude, if you're not okay, you don't have to lie-"

"I said I'm _okay, _Callie."_  
_

Brandon blows out air between his lips. "Your sister's right-"

Jude doesn't let him finish his sentence, sitting up straighter against his headboard, as if to convince them that this news doesn't affect him at all. "I just want to be alone, okay?"

Brandon and Callie glance at each other, not entirely fond of the idea but they both know they can't push him, so Brandon stands from his spot, squeezes his shoulder, then heads out the door, closing it behind him. Callie wraps her arms around her body, unsure of what to do with herself. Brandon looks down at her, wanting desperately to just hold her, but he knows now is not the time to get into that. Instead, he suggests, "We should check on the twins."

Callie's eyes drift to the bathroom. "I think Mariana's in there."

"Okay," he says as he starts to head towards the bathroom, but she grabs his arm and stops him. "Maybe I should just go. I don't know...you should go find Jesus though."

Brandon doesn't want Callie to have to feel like she has to be strong for Mariana, but he hasn't seen Jesus since he went up to the bathroom, clearly sickened, and he's in a very unstable and potentially dangerous emotional state right now, so it's probably a better idea. "Yeah, okay."

* * *

The smell hits her before she's even fully inside. "Mariana..."

Mariana is sitting across from the toilet, her back against the wall, her legs stretched out in front of her. It seems she's making an effort to sit upright but her whole body is slumping, appearing relaxed, though Callie knows this is obviously some illusion. She bravely steps inside, peers inside the toilet now coated with pure bile- seeing as Mariana hadn't even eaten breakfast yet- and quickly flushes it before kneeling next to the girl. "Mariana," she prompts again, but she never looks up, just keeps staring straight ahead as if there's something interesting on the wall above the toilet.

Callie knows what's going on, she refuses to come back to reality. She's not going to reach her now, but she keeps trying, anyway. "Is there anything I can get you?" She knows it's too early to give some speech about how empathetic she is, so she opts for this route for now. "Some ginger ale, maybe?"

Slowly, her head turns, and Callie swears she doesn't blink once. Her face is so void of everything- color, emotion- it's almost frightening. Her lips part and the bottom one juts out a little, but she doesn't speak. She only stares at Callie, and her eyes are flashing with the words she can't say, and so Callie gingerly takes her hand and coaxes her up off the floor.

"We can go downstairs, I'll get everybody else." Mariana is standing on her own now but she never lets go of Callie's hand. "We can just sit there if you want. Or we can put something on. Whatever you want." Callie doesn't expect her to reply, and she doesn't.

When they reach the hallway, Brandon is at the top of the stairs, looking distressed. With her eyes, Callie warns him not to say anything if it's bad news, so his face changes and he waits for them to arrive before walking down with them. Callie leads Mariana over to the couch and sits down with her, but Brandon has that look on his face again and she has to excuse herself momentarily. "I'll be right back, I promise."

She follows him into the kitchen. "Please don't tell me-"

"I can't find him." he confirms, and her face falls. "I've looked everywhere, every room, every closet, no Jesus."

She peers over his shoulder and out the kitchen window. "Have you checked out back?"

He flips around and darts out the door with Callie in tow, scanning the back porch quickly before discovering that he's not here, either. He skips over the steps and just jumps straight down, marching across the grass but finds no signs of him. Finally, when he turns back around to go back inside, he spots him in the hidden corner of the yard, sitting up against the fence. Brandon lets out a long breath and slows himself as he approaches him. "We've been worried about you, we couldn't find you." He worries that this isn't the right thing to say, so he adds, "But it's fine."

Jesus pulls his knees up a little more, his wrists hanging loosely over them, his head leaning back against the fence. Callie's only watching from the porch, but even from here she can tell he's going to be a different case than Mariana. "I'm fine. Don't worry about me."

Brandon frowns. "I said it to Jude and I'll say it to you, you don't have to lie-"

He doesn't snap at him but he looks a little peeved as he interjects, "Really, I'm okay. I didn't know her that long, anyway."

"Jesus," Brandon wasn't expecting him to be this calm about it, but he instantly regrets it when he says it, "she was your _girlfriend."_

But instead of cracking like he expects, he looks up at him steadily, and with an even tongue, simply replies, "You think I don't know that?"

Brandon has to stop and look up to the sky for a moment, and it's only then that he notices it has stopped raining entirely, though the tree stills drips residual down on their heads, and Jesus is sitting in pure mud. He looks out towards the street over the fence and sees people walking by, an average day for them. Life goes on. Fresh, clean air fills their lungs. They can revel in the smell of wet asphalt, and the comforting thought that the sun will be out soon.

But not for the Fosters. For the Fosters, the rain will come again.

* * *

"Go put on some clean clothes, I'll put in something to watch." Brandon orders and Jesus takes to the stairs, still trying to convince his brother that he's completely fine, and will always be. Brandon knows that's not how it'll work, there's only two different ways to come about this: he's either devastated and eventually recovers, or he's fine and is eventually devastated. He wishes he were the former; he doesn't know how much worse the breakdown will be when it's been brewing for some time.

Callie's back on the couch next to Mariana, and they're both staring at the television, though one of them is checked out of this world and probably doesn't even know she's staring at it. Brandon looks at them with sad eyes before putting in _The Little Mermaid, _the only Disney movie he can find with no character death. Callie tries to smile at him when he looks at her again, but it's ridiculously forced and not believable.

"Should I get Jude?" Brandon asks her, but she shakes her head.

"This is what he does. He'll join us when he's ready."

Jesus thumps down the stairs in clean jeans and plops into the recliner, pulling his knees back up again. He glances at Mariana out of the corner of his eye but makes no move towards her. Any other time or situation he'd be there for her, but he doesn't know what to tell her. Lexi was her friend before she was his girlfriend, he knows her pain is magnified. And she doesn't seem to acknowledge that anyone else is in this room with her, anyway. "What movie?"

"Uh, The Little Mermaid." Brandon tells him, not surprised when he receives an eye roll from the boy in response. He's about to take a seat next to Callie on the couch when Jude appears at the bottom of the stairs, eyes puffy and red, skin blotchy. Callie's spine straightens immediately and shoots out, "Jude, what's wrong?"

Three pairs of eyes watch him now but he makes no move towards them. He seems to be trying to stay composed but the second he opens his mouth, he sobs. "I'm sorry!"

Callie gets up to retrieve him, obviously questioning, "Sorry for what, Jude?" but he doesn't look at her, his eyes are bouncing back and forth between Jesus and Brandon. He doesn't even look at her when she bends down next to him. "I'm so sorry!"

Brandon, still standing, walks over to the boy and does the same as Callie. "What are you sorry for? You have nothing to be sorry about."

"Yes I do," he cries, though he sounds firm as he says it, "ever since I've been here only bad stuff has happened!"

Brandon and Callie look at each other, both pained as they hear the young boy cry about something that is completely out of his control or power. Callie's seen him cry before, but something about this time makes her heart ache more; maybe it's knowing all of the things he's been through before arriving here, and all the new stuff after. He's had too much happen to him at such a young age, he's barely had a childhood. "Jude, no," she grinds out, fighting back her own tears, "this is not your fault."

"None of it is," Brandon adds, taking him by the shoulders so he'll look him in the eye, "don't you ever think that. You're the best one here, you have to know that. Don't ever think that you've only brought us unhappiness. You've brought my moms so much happiness. Don't you know that?"

He shakes his head furiously, and when Brandon takes a look at Callie, she's biting her lip a little too hard, he's afraid she'll split it open. So he goes on, "It's not your sister's fault, either. Without you guys, all of this would've happened, anyway. You've just made it a little more bearable."

Jude looks at Callie after he says this, and she nods in agreement, a skinny tear slipping down her cheek. She wipes at his own with her palms. "Listen to Brandon. He's smart."

"But-"

"He's right," Jesus speaks up from his seat, directing all their attention. Brandon is surprised, he hadn't expected him to, but he's glad he does. "I don't blame you for anything, Jude. You're awesome."

Brandon silently thanks his brother, especially upon looking at Jude again, who has stopped crying and has nothing left to say. Callie stands up but doesn't grab his hand, she knows he hates crying in front of other people and she doesn't want to do anything he'll be embarrassed of. But when Brandon stands he places his hand on his back and ushers Jude over to the couch, informing him of the movie they're watching. He doesn't seem to mind as much as Jesus.

Callie squeezes back in between Mariana and Brandon, and Jude takes the other side of him. When they're all situated, Brandon catches Jesus' eye, silently inviting him to join them. He stands without a sound and takes the space left next to Jude.

The movie isn't even halfway through when both the twins and Jude have knocked out. Jesus' arm is wrapped around the young boy, pulling him in closer, and Mariana is asleep with her head on the arm of the couch, uninterested in the comfort of another. Callie's fingers envelop Brandon's forearm, her head against his shoulder, and she can feel when his head moves, examining the four of them, so she mumbles softly, "Thank you."

His eyes don't leave the screen as he replies. "For what?"

But she never answers him back, she's fallen fast asleep on his arm. He decides he could use a little rest, too, but he leaves the movie on. Ariel's finally human and has found her prince charming. He's a sucker for it.

* * *

When Stef finally steps out of her office, her face is ghostly pale. Lena's been waiting for her to make her reappearance, hoping it would end the suspense and the anxiety that now plagues her, but seeing her expression only makes her heart stop. "What is it?" she asks as she approaches her. "What is it? Do I even want to know?"

Stef runs her hands over her face as they stop next to the coffee machine, out of the way of the others. "I don't know how I'm going to tell them this. I don't know if I can."

"Stephanie Foster," Lena demands, her voice a harsh whisper, "come out with it now before I have a heart attack."

She leans in a little closer, sighs quietly, then finally explains, "Lexi was trying to cross the border when she was murdered. She was trying to come back here." She waits for Lena's reaction, but when she merely shakes her head, disbelieving, she has to add, "Yeah, she left a note for her parents. She wasn't just trying to get back to town, Lena, she was trying to get back to us."

Lena's head won't stop moving, she doesn't want to believe it, she can't.

"She was trying to get back to Jesus."

* * *

**A/N: So a few of you guys in the past have said I use too much description while writing, so lately I've been trying to get rid of some of it, but now I feel its all dialogue! But it's up to you guys to let me know if its alright, if it needs more, if it needs less, etc. You guys have been doing an awesome job reviewing, thank you so so much! Sorry for the late post this morning, my laptop wouldn't connect to the internet, then it overheated, so I had to get on my sister's, which is super slow. Everything that can go wrong, does! Oh well, I'd climb mountains for my lovely reviewers and readers! I'll try to get back to your reviews today. Thanks again! :) **


	11. Episode 21

**Episode 21**

_Happy Halloween!_

"We'd better go check on the twins now." Lena suggests, slicing through the silence that had fallen shortly after Stef rallied everyone together and explained to them how Lexi had somehow made her way through Guatemala, into Mexico, then to the border, where for no specific reason, she was targeted. Of course, she left out the part with the note, but nonetheless, Jesus and Mariana disappeared back into their shells, respectively.

It was the first real show of emotion from Jesus, though he was still intent on making everyone believe he was fine, even as he left the room to be alone. The remaining five just sat in the living room, left to their own haunting thoughts.

Stef scrunches her nose at the proposal. "I don't know...it's still too soon."

"It's never too soon."

Stef sighs and rubs at her eyes, emotionally drained, but eventually agrees to it. "I'll check on Jesus, you check on Mariana." They both rise from their seats without another word, leaving Callie to make small talk with Jude and Brandon to himself.

"You sure you don't want to?"

"Trick or treating is for babies."

Brandon turns his head towards the two, waking out of the sort of trance he had fallen in on the sofa recliner. "That's not true, Jude, I'll even go with you if you want."

He simply shakes his head. "No thanks."

"Jude," Callie nudges him, eyes flashing with gratitude towards Brandon, "if this is about-"

"It's not about anything, I just think it's stupid."

"But you've never gone, and-"

"I don't want to, can you leave me alone about it?" he interrupts her, and though he doesn't raise his voice or snap at her, it pains her all the same. She has to agree, of course, but she knows why he doesn't want to go. He still doesn't feel he deserves too, and she's spent so long trying to make him feel otherwise, though all her efforts must've been in vain. She wants to say more, maybe not so much on the same topic, but suddenly Lena's flying down the stairs with Stef in tow, both looking frantic. On natural instinct, both Callie and Brandon stand.

Before either can ask, Stef explains, "Jesus is gone, we think he climbed out his window. I'm going to get my partner and we're going to go looking for him-"

"We'll come, too," Callie volunteers, and Lena opens her mouth to object, already throwing on her own coat, but Stef nods her head.

"You should stay with Jude and Mariana," she tells Lena, "Callie and Brandon might have a better chance at finding him, they know who his friends are."

"What if he_ is_ just with a friend, mom?" Brandon chimes in, not looking as frazzled as the two. "What if he just wanted to get some air, I'm sure-"

"He's not well, Brandon," she cuts him off, tossing him his car keys, "let's go, before it starts raining harder."

Lena doesn't say another word as she takes a seat next to Jude, pulling him into her side with a squeeze of his shoulder. Brandon, Callie, and Stef disappear out the door in one big huddle but part ways in separate cars. "We'll take this side of town, you take the other."

"Okay," Brandon nods before slipping in to the car. Callie slides in to the passenger seat and immediately flicks on the heater. "We should head towards school. I know a couple of kids hang out there a lot."

She bites her bottom lip. "Déjà vu, huh?"

He turns the key in the ignition and waits in the driveway for his mom to leave. Last time Jesus ran away, they found him in the bad part of town, and though nothing happened, something could've. This time is no different. "I wish it wasn't."

* * *

It's dumping now, gallons upon gallons of raining assaulting the city. Brandon shuts the car off, albeit, hesitantly, as the heater goes off with it, and digs in his glove box for a flashlight. Callie folds her arms around herself. "You think he's going to be here?"

"Look," he motions with his eyes towards the school as he checks to see if the flashlight works, "isn't that the girl that came to the door?"

Callie has to squint to see out the rain-splattered window, zeroing in on a group of about five or six kids sitting on a lunch table, drenched by the rain. One holds a jacket over two of their heads, and they're passing something off between each other. It's obviously a blunt. "Yeah, but I don't think they're friends. They're a bunch of stoners, Brandon."

He shrugs. "We've still gotta ask. Come on."

But the second they step out and slam their doors, the girl and the rest of the potheads take a gander, get up from their seats, and run for the school, looking back occasionally as they erupt in laughter. "They think we've come to bust them,"

"I think I saw Jesus, though," Brandon tells her, picking up his pace. Callie can barely keep up with his long strides and has to jog to catch up, her feet sloshing in the already-puddled grass. He looks back at her, reaching out his hand. "Come on,"

Her fingers don't slip between is but their thumbs overlap, his wrist crossed over hers as if to protect her own. They hurry under the building and into the hallways, shaking off the drops that haven't yet dissolved into their clothing. The kids are down on the other end of the hallway, still laughing obnoxiously, and break up into two groups, each taking a different path. They don't run after them but they speed down to the other end, catching the last movements of the kids as they disappear around each corner.

"I'll go this way," Callie offers, starting towards the right hallway.

"You want the flashlight?"

She shakes her head, retrieving something from her pocket. "I've got my phone."

"Okay," he says, watching her as she takes off down it, "Okay, just...be careful."

She rounds the next corner and catches the girl and two other boys exiting back out to the lunch area, back into the rain. She exhales, aggravated. She really hopes Jesus isn't with them.

She pushes into the unlocked doors, knowing that this has to be the work of the stoners themselves because they never leave the school unlocked, especially not during a storm. It's cold outside, especially coming from inside the school, which definitely isn't as warm as the car but better than nothing, and Callie places her phone back in her jacket pocket and keeps her hand inside to preserve some heat.

She looks to the left but it's just another wall, and straight ahead is just a bunch of empty lunch tables. She pulls her hood over her head and turns right, nearly running straight into the girl herself.

Tiffany, she thinks she says her name was, speaks first. "You're looking for Jesus, am I right?"

Callie takes a few steps back, nearly slipping on the slick grass. "Sorry...yeah, I am. Is he with you?"

"Jesus doesn't want to be found." she snaps, but Callie isn't scared off, instead she examines the two boys behind her, both holding skateboards, and speaks to them, ignoring the scowling girl.

"You guys friends with Jesus?" They don't say anything to her. "Can you help me find him?"

"I already told you-"

"I know," Callie cuts her off, pissed off with her already, "Jesus is going through some tough shit right now, and I know you think you're helping him by getting him high, helping him 'escape his problems', but you're not. So can you-" she cries out as Tiffany seizes her arm, digging her claws into her flesh, and nods at one of her goons, who raises his skateboard in the air.

Callie is just freeing herself from the girl's grasp when the hard plank connects with her head, and the next thing she knows is blackness.

"That'll shut her up for a while," Tiffany laughs, bending down to steal Callie's phone out of her pocket, "Jesus is with the others, right? Don't let his brother find him. They're such party poopers."

"Dude," the one holding the board groans, "nobody's going to know that I-"

"Nobody's going to know shit," Tiffany reassures, pulling the two boys with her back to the hallways, leaving Callie's unconscious body in the relentless rain. "When I said I needed another hit I didn't mean literally, but it'll work."

* * *

When she comes to, the corners of her eyes are blurry and the rest of her vision is just plain spotty, but she's still able to make out the figure looming above her in the noisy darkness, the rain still pelting her and the mud around her. She nearly jumps out of her skin and scutters backwards in the wet dirt, desperately reaching for something to protect herself, but as the figure comes in closer, it turns out to be Mike.

Which one could argue is just as scary as any other stranger, but she's slightly relieved at the sight. She stops moving, mostly because her head only pounds more in defiance when she does so, but because he tells her to. "You were hit pretty hard."

Somehow, despite the many scattered thoughts in her brain, she manages to find some words. "You saw them?"

"I was just pulling up." he explains as he kneels next to her, gesturing behind him with his thumb towards his car, which is parked right behind Brandon's. "We should get you into my car, I'll take you-"

"No." she blurts too quickly, blushing when she realizes how rude she must've sounded, "I'm sorry, I'd just...rather find Brandon first. Then we can go."

He raises an eyebrow but doesn't deny her that, not that he has the power to. "You sure?"

"I'm...fine."

"Okay," he shrugs, his tone implying he's not convinced, but he helps her to her feet anyway, albeit, rather awkwardly. "You know where he is?"

They start towards the entrance, which isn't too far, but proves a difficult feat for a girl that's just been clocked upside the head. He doesn't hang on to her and she doesn't lean on him, but he walks near enough so that if she needed to she could...though she doubts she'll take him up on that offer anytime soon. The whole situation is just something straight out of the twilight zone. "No, but I doubt he's gone far."

She hopes he hasn't.

When they finally make into the hallways, she's more grateful than she thought she'd be, seeing as the rain only aggravated her injury further, but the new silence leaves a lot hanging in the air and they both know it. She knows shooting the breeze with him is way too obvious, but walking along quietly as if they're comfortable friends isn't fooling anyone. "He doesn't hate you."

Mike looks at her as if she's speaking in tongues.

"Brandon, I mean."

He laughs strangely. "Yeah, I know. I just don't think you're the right person to be talking to about this."

She distances herself slightly from him. "You just seem a little nervous, I just wanted you to know that you don't have to be. If anything, he needs this more than you do."

He shoves his hands in his wind blazer pockets, staring straight ahead. "This is a good idea then?"

Callie's about to open her mouth to reply when a sudden wave of nausea hits her and she stumbles against the lockers, her shoulder hitting one with a loud clang, and clutches her stomach in pain. Mike rushes to her but she holds her right hand up, signaling that she's fine, but he seems annoyed that she's lying. "Something I ate."

"No, it's the head wound you sustained, I'm calling the paramedics, don't know why I didn't before." he says determinedly, retrieving his phone from his pant pocket, but she places her hand atop it and pushes it down.

"Wait, please, let's just find Brandon, then we can drive there." she begs, straightening up a little. "They've got so much going on I can't...I won't make them pay for an unnecessary ambulance bill."

He moves away from her and presses the call button, only the other line never answers and he jams his phone back into his pocket. When she stares at him, no energy to actually speak herself, he explains, "I tried calling Brandon again, but he hasn't been answering me. I wouldn't expect him to." When he realizes he's talking about what he said he wouldn't with her, he quickly throws in, "Those kids took your phone, didn't they?"

She feels her pockets, not really expecting much, and finds it missing. She nods, unable to offer anything else. He takes his phone back out again. "Really rather not have to call them but these kids can't just get away with this."

"Wait!" she manages, seeing him about to dial 9-1-1, "Jesus is with those kids, if you call the cops on them, you risk getting Jesus in trouble, too. Stef and Lena would freak."

He huffs and marches forward, muttering "Damned kids these days." before turning back to make sure she's coming. She shuffles along, clutching at the ever-growing knot on the back of her head as she does. She hates hospitals but she knows it's inevitable, she can't risk a concussion.

When they round the corner, there's a small yellow light down on the other end of the hallway, and the one that holds it is Brandon, who immediately spots the two, though he only recognizes Callie at first, and speeds up to meet them. "Callie, I've been calling you..."

He pauses as he makes out his dad's face, and for a moment just focuses on him, until he turns to Callie for an explanation. But she offers him nothing, and Mike speaks up anyway. "Your mom thought it'd be a good idea if I came with you guys. I wanted to help." he tells him softly, honestly, and when he glances over at Callie, he adds, "And as I was pulling up I witnessed a couple of punks hit her on the back of the head with a skateboard. She's pretty beat up and-"

"What?" Brandon's head jerks towards her, worry pulling at his features, "What happened? Let me see-"

She barely has the chance to get a word in when he's already next to her, feeling the back of her head, and exclaiming, "We need to take you to the hospital, why did you walk all the way here?" He looks at his dad, naturally, but Callie admits, "I wanted to come find you. I'm fine. I thought we could get Jesus, now that we know who he's with."

"_No_," he debunks easily, "now that we know who he's with, that's not a good idea."

She narrows her eyes. "Don't tell me this was all for nothing."

He looks to his dad, who has remained mostly quiet, though the reason he came with was to do the exact opposite, and asks, "Can you get Jesus then? I'll take her to the hospital."

Callie glances between the two, noticing his dad's face and how it falls- this definitely wasn't how he planned this to go. She feels bad, knowing that she may have ruined his only opportunity, so she begins to say, "Brandon, we'll just tell your mom to get-" but the room tilts under her feet and Brandon and Mike's face somehow becomes one and the darkness of the hallway is no longer the absence of light, but of consciousness.

Thankfully, she sways before she passes out, so Brandon is anticipating it when she starts to collapse to the floor, catching her before her knees and the tile kiss. He falls to his own, just to get a new grip on her, and looks up at his dad, eyebrows strung together in anger. "Why didn't you just take her to the hospital if you saw what happened? She could have a concussion!"

Mike looks torn between helping his son and stepping further away from him. "I tried-"

"There's a possibility she won't wake up again," he spits, scooping Callie into his arms and standing carefully, "you do know that, right?"

He watches how his son hikes the girl and all her dead weight up in his arms, feeling the need to say, "Let me help you-"

"I don't need your help with this!" he fires back, hurrying down the hallway, "I need you to get Jesus! It's one simple task, dad! You think you can manage that?"

Mike stops walking behind him, but calls after him, "I didn't come to make sure your foster siblings stay out of trouble! I came to talk to you, to work things out with my son!"

Brandon stops halfway down the hallway, turns to look back at his father, who looks completely remorseless about what he's just said, and says frighteningly low, "Just saying that alone proves you don't deserve my time yet."

His dad doesn't follow.

By the time he makes it outside, his arms are aching from holding her, but she remains unconscious. He jogs across the grass, feels the glistening blades dampen his socks through the thin material of his shoes, feels the wind whip his face. He looks up- the sky is just black, the gray clouds moving somewhere else for now. The air is easier to breathe now that the worst part of the storm is over.

But there's always the aftermath.

* * *

She must've been moaning long before she remembers coming to, because when she's just barely peeling her eyes apart, she can already hear Brandon speaking into the phone, "Hold on, mom, I'll have to call you back, she's waking up- yes, I told you I would, okay, I'll call back soon."

It seems all she can muster is a moan, especially as she tries to roll her head against the head rest. That's definitely not happening.

"Don't strain yourself, Callie."

"Mm," she groans, blinking a few times until her eyes adjust to the dim light of the car. Her head feels ten pounds heavier, and her stomach feels like its been turned inside out and upside down more than she'd like it to. "What time is it?"

It's like she can feel every little movement- of the car, of the body, of everything. Every piece of gravel they roll over, every corner they turn, she feels travel up her body and into her head, powering the little workers that are pounding away inside. And she wants to heave.

"I don't know, radio clock's broken and my phone is in my pocket." he wants to glance over at her but it's too dark out now and the roads are still slick from the rain, he can't risk injuring both of them...or worse. "How do you feel? What hurts?"

"That was your mom on the phone?" she ignores him, finding the arm rest and gripping it tighter than necessary. She feels ready to slide off her seat, no control over her aching body. She just wants to sleep. "Is she going to get Jesus?"

"Yeah, they're on their way over now, then they'll meet us at the hospital." he explains, and this seems to relieve her, but he continues to look plagued with concern. "You've got to tell me how you feel, though," he allows himself a quick peek and when he finds her with her eyes closed, he demands she open them. "You can't sleep, Callie, not yet."

"Not sleeping..." she mumbles, her eyes cracking open again, though it's not without some difficulty, "just resting."

"Well...no doing that, then."

She wants to groan in frustration but she knows it's necessary precautions they have to take. She manages to turn her head slightly to look out the side window, noting, "It stopped raining. How long was I out?"

"A few minutes, I was so-"

"You don't have to worry so much, Brandon."

"Of course I'm going to." He sounds almost angry at her suggestion of the idea, and even turns the already-low radio off completely to add, "everything that can go wrong right now is! This family is falling apart-" when she winces, he lowers his voice and stops himself. "Sorry. It's just easy to talk to you."

She shakes her head just barely, as if to wave off his apology. "This family doesn't have to fall apart, not without everybody's effort. As long as you're giving one hundred percent..."

"It sounds like you're implying something."

"Because I am." she says boldly, figuring if there were ever a good time to lay shit out as it is, it's while she's injured and nobody has the guts to fight back. "Your dad came to to work things out with you and from what I saw you still don't want to...I don't know what happened after but I hope it was a little more cordial."

He can't believe this is what she really wants to talk about, but if she's going to bring it up, that's her choice. "You're injured! Maybe he came to work things out but it wasn't the right time...you passed out, Callie. It wasn't about him anymore."

She sighs, trying to ignore her throbbing brain. Her head falls back against the head rest. "Well, I don't want it to be about me."

The car stops moving and he pretends he hasn't heard her when he gets out and walks to the other side, opening the door and about to release her seatbelt when she does it herself. "Can you-"

"I can walk." she assures him as she takes his hand and stands on her feet once again. It's only now that she realizes how dizzy she still is, and finds herself having to lean into him as they start off towards the emergency room. She takes a deep breath and the smell of after-rain floods her nostrils. It's one of those smells that one can find both good and bad memories for. She can't decide what kind of memory they're making now, not yet. "You should call your mom when we get inside."

He looks down at her, and she looks smaller than usual, frailer or something, shivering slightly, and half her body is covered in mud, including her hair, which is stringy and caked with it, and he imagines she must feel like absolute shit but she hasn't said one word about it. All she wants to know is if they've found Jesus. He wonders how his moms can't see how much he loves her, what with the way he's looking at her now, and how he's sure he has before. "I will."

* * *

**A/N: Happy Halloween everyone! I know I'm about three days early but there's something weird about doing holiday-themed things after a holiday as opposed to doing it early. If you don't celebrate it, well then, happy creepy month! Thanks for all the reviews, I finally caught up on them, I love reading everything you guys have to say! Even the ones where you completely babble! Those are probably my favorite. If you can't form complete sentences just go nuts! Trust me! I'll get you! I know I usually just say "tell me what you think" but I have some specific questions for you to answer if you care to! Who's your favorite character as of right now and why? (the why is optional, of course) Do you think Brandon is being unfair about Mike? Who else hates Tiffany?! Those are just some review suggestions...haha. So one of my anon reviewers was confused on how Lexi was crossing the border if she lives in Guatemala, I hope I cleared that up for you in the first section. And another reviewer told me I should post this on Wattpad, so I created an account under the same name and also posted it there, so if you have an account and want to let your friends know about it (cause you're awesome and beautiful) then I would greatly appreciate it! I'm not sure how else to get it out there, so I greatly depend on you. But do not fret! Fanfiction will always be my #1. Alright, I'm done ranting, thanks for your time! Have a wonderful week! **


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